


The Wolf's Den

by AngelSariel



Category: Norse Mythology (freeform), Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, BAMF! cas, Background Destiel, Biting Marks, Blow Jobs, Cages, Kidnapping, Kinda Dark, Knotting, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-liner timeline, Norse Mythology - Freeform, One Night Stand, Possible Suicide Trigger, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Rimming, Torture, Werewolf, Whipping, anguish, case fic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelSariel/pseuds/AngelSariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the boys come upon a case in Paradise Michigan, they pack up Baby and head up north. But when Sam seeks out some nighttime companionship for himself, he ends up falling into the wicked game of a madman. Can he make it out? Or will this self-proclaimed peace bringer destroy him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I'd like to say that writing for Sam is extremely difficult when you're used to writing for Dean. But I loved it nevertheless. Second, please keep in mind while you're reading that I wanted to write a story that showed that the deities of the past aren't all bloodthirsty murders, as the show likes to portray them as. I wanted to make a nice god. I hope that you grow to like him as much as I have.  
> So, without anything further, here's the story. Enjoy.

As the door swung opened, Sam was greeted by the warm atmosphere inside the bar. It wasn't the general beer soaked, smoke hazed places that he and his brother usually ended up at and that was a greatly welcomed change. This place was more high end and classy, like something out of a old suave gentleman's magazine. One with high priced drinks, mood music, and well-to-do clientele. It was to be expected in a place like Paradise, Michigan; with it's burgeoning tourist economy.  
\---p---  
They had caught a case here, one that was both obvious and difficult to decipher. A number of bodies had washed up on the shores of Lake Superior and it was unsettling the residents and threatening their main source of industry. Normally a news article about a few dead bodies got passed over in their search for the weird. But when it turned and mentioned the state of some the bodies when they were found, they knew it was right up their alley. 

A two day trip landed them in the office of Sheriff Dana Harwood of the Chippewa county. After the customary FBI introduction, Sheriff Harwood explained what information she had regarding the case. Maybe two or three months ago, bodies began washing up randomly along the shore. The police weren't able to match them together, due to their differentiating injuries combined with the lack of a continuing thread through the victims. They believed that perchance they were animal attacks or even accidents. In this area, animal attacks weren't entirely uncommon, but a serial killer was. So they tended to be either written off or sent to the unsolved cases department. But then the frequency of bodies showing up increased, along with the heinous nature of their conditions, and disappearances of townspeople and tourist alike increased.

She showed them crime scene photos. Many showed tearing and claw marks, while others showed not signs of foul play. They just died. Investigators theorized that those individuals may have gotten dragged under the current while swimming or had fallen from boats while fishing and drowned. The victims with claw and teeth marks gave the impression of being ripped apart. The medical examiner reported that, while the obvious explanation would be that of an animal, the marks couldn't be identified as any indigenous animal. On top of that, the mauling victims had their hearts torn from their chests. Harwood commented that she had never seen anything like it, animal or otherwise.

The trio thanked the sheriff for her help and asked to do some looking around town. She graciously accepted their help, even offering some of her deputies to assist. Sam, or Agent Bruce as he told her, had thanked her but said they needed to get their own bearings of the situation.

They set up at one of the local hotels and deliberated on the topic. The brothers spent so much time arguing about past decisions, even becoming a screaming match with the occasional threat, that Cas was forced to step in and put his proverbial elder foot down and separate them. People were dying and it was there job to stow their crap and save them.

After a few choice swears, they set about their task. They concluded that it was most likely a werewolf. The missing hearts were an evident point to that. But the other bodies didn't make much sense, defiantly not a werewolf MO. Perhaps it was a skin walker. No go either; there was no reports of missing dogs or of any possible gang or club that all these men were involved in. They were as different from each other as they could be. Different races, ethnicities, religions. Some had families and were active member of the community, while others were loners and lived on the outskirts of town. Residents, out of towners; nothing that linked them together. Except they were all men and all dead. It looked like, that without a clear idea of what exactly they were dealing with, that they would have to hit the streets and find some more information on the case. But that would be later. It was late.

Sam sat there in silence after the general conversation. He could see the underlying tension of his presence. Not only from his brother, who seemed to be constantly distant, but also from Cas. He knew that him and Dean were together for some time now, despite their terrible attempts to cover it up, and Cas was awkward when it came to stating his intentions. When he wanted something, he either blurted it out or clamped up tight. Tonight it looked like it was going more for silence. Sam, taking the hint, gathered up his things and made for his room. But the night was still young enough that to turn in now would be a crime. Besides, he has every right to have some companionship tonight same as Dean.


	2. Chapter 2

\---n---   
The cushion of the stool was almost welcoming as the Winchester sat down. Tonight was going to be about him. He deserved that. He ordered a glass of expensive cognac. When the bartender brought the sniffer to him, he gave him a rather flirtatious smile. Despite Sam's pension for tasting from both sexes, the waiter just wasn't his type. So he gave him a courtesy smile, nodding appreciatively.

He closed his eyes as he took his first drink. The burn it gave was delicious. He had always enjoyed cognac, much more then he ever did whiskey. Whiskey was Dean's and Dad's drink of choice, not his. But money was neverendingly tight and whiskey was cheaper. The burn, the rich flavor, the intoxicating smell; it comforted and encapsulated the hunter. The almost hallowed aura that surrounded the amber liquid gave Sam solace that there was a life outside of all the death and the mayhem and the suffering. The tiny bit of sunshine in all the darkness. If he could do it, and not have to deal with the fallout from Dean, he would have a sniffer of cognac every day.  
He pushed a tendril of his long brown hair out of his face as he surveyed the room. He rolled the sniffer between his finger, loving the weight of it, as he affixed his confidence. Glancing from face to face, they all gave the impression of innocence. Sam highly doubted any of them were actually as innocent as they played. There were friends and couples who were enjoying their drinks and their conversation. One or two most likely the town drunks and a few persons with the same interests as he did.

A young brunette was stirring her drink when she caught his eyes. Her winning smile, her low cut dress and her plump, inviting lips all told him she was interested in finding someone just like Sam. He moved to make his way towards her when his eye caught the silhouette of a man sitting in the booth behind her table. The feeling that someone was watching had plagued him ever since he had heard that door ding behind him, but it was merely wrote off as hunter paranoia and pushed out of his mind. But now, as his stare was undeniably linked with this strangers, Sam knew his instincts had been serving him well the whole time.   
The brunette began seductively stroking the top of her breasts, believing that she was captivating the hazel-eyed man with her tantalizing behavior. She watched as he left his chair and began padding towards him. Instead of stopping at her table, Sam simply brushed on past her. She muttered something under her breath about how all the good ones being taken or gay and went back to stirring her drink.

Sam's pulse quickened, despite his ability to remain calm, yet his eyes stayed locked with this mysterious stranger. Some part of him was alarmed by this perceived threat and was itching for a fight. However, a more rational part of him argued that not every dark shadow and menacing figure was another nightmare waiting to attack.   
“Is there something I can help you with?” Sam asked, setting his sniffer down on the table. Should he need to fight, his hands had to be empty and ready to fill. His eyes wondered over the stranger's form. To say that this man was attractive was a major understatement. Sam guessed that he was tall, even by Sam's standards, probably 6'5 or 6'6”; with broad shoulders and a long muscular frame. Long onyx black hair framed his angular handsome face, echoed in the black goatee curve elegantly around his full lips. The most prominent feature was the illuminated lapis lazuli colored eyes that seemed so ethereal. They pulled him in and enchanted him to the point of being spell cast. He could feel them move over his own features, like they were drinking in his being.

“I do apologize. I was staring and that was rude. Do forgive me.” His voice was deep, almost fluid in its flow. Sam had always been a sucker for a man with a deep voice and he had to bite the inside of his lip to stop the moan he could feel bubbling up in his chest. “My name if Randolf Radulfr. Would you care to sit down?” he asked, motioning to the seat in front of him. Sam's suspicious nature still whispered danger, despite him wanting to indulge his curiosity in Randolf. Besides, ever since laying eyes on him, Sam's libido was like a rabid dog on a leash. 

“Mr. Randulfr, you still haven't answered my question,” Sam asked, playing oblivious to the obvious charm of his courting gentleman.

“Oh, please do not call me mister. It makes me sound so very old. Wolf will do nicely.” He flashed his inviting smile wide and Sam hated how much his brain clouded with lust. “My friends all do.” He took a sip for his glass, gaze locked firmly onto that of the man that he know he was captivating well. “I enjoy things a beauty, and when I find such a ravenous beauty, I can not help but stare.”

“Ravenous beauty, huh?” Sam huffed with a smile. He took the seat offered to him, yet tried to keep his attention honed as best as possible in case he should need it. “I don' t know if I'd go that far.” He hated pick up lines, always found them cheesy, But for some reason, with this guy, they seemed to be working. “So, why do your friends call you Wolf?”

“My family hails from Scandinavia, where our emblem is that of a wolf. My name also means shield wolf.” He leaned forward, as though to whisper a secret. “Additionally, it sounds much better then Randolf.” He shared a smile with the hunter and sat back. “And, if I may ask, what is your name, my beauty?”

“Sam.”

“Sam. I gather that is short for Samuel, a name of strength. Am I correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Sam, how did one such as yourself find your way to Paradise?” Wolf asked, probing. He leaned back against the back of the booth nonchalantly and stretched his arm along the back edge. Sam noticed a silken grey ribbon tied around his wrist when his dress shirt was drawn taut. He thought it was a bit misplaced on a man that appeared as manly and put together as he.

“My brother and I are here for a vacation. We heard there was great hunting up here.” He took another burning sip of the liquor. “And you?”

“Business ties.” His voice was lower now and his expression had changed. Something somber, now overshadowed the suave persona. But it was quickly shaken off and replaced with an air of pure confidence. “Sam, “he said as he leaned forward; “I am not a man that deals in small talk. Shall we cut to the chase? I am obviously interested in you and I get the sense that the feeling is reciprocal. So, would you like to spend the evening together?”

Sam was dumbfounded by the direct nature of the question. He was never that straight forward about anything in his life, let alone picking someone up in a bar for a one night stand. He was more than willing to jump at the opportunity and say yes, but the nagging hunter in him was always so cautious. And right now that voice was telling him it was probably a trap. They were, after all, on the hunt of what was most likely a serial killing werewolf. With all the dead bodies turning up, Sam had no intention on becoming one of them. This guy needed to at least be tested before they stepped foot outside this bar.

“If you would be more comfortable, we can return to your hotel room. I would guess that your brother would probably not be too far from your room. Should you need anything. And, of course, what we do would be entirely up to you.” He paused. Sam was usually an expert at reading people, but there was nothing there to read. No malice, no underlying evil, no murderous intention. “What do you say, Sam,” he asked with a delicious smile. “Are you up for some fun?”

The hunter in Sam silenced briefly and his mind remembered Dean and Cas and what they had together. His jealousy overwhelmed him and he had to struggle to control it. It wasn't that he didn't support them. He only wanted the same and it was constantly being denied him. All he had was his empty room, his loneliness, and the knowledge this might be all here was for him forever. It was always seemed like a shitty reward for everything he and Dean had done.

When he set out tonight, it was about changing that, about giving him that opportunity to have the same connection. About putting the job down; being Sam Winchester: man, not Sam Winchester: hunter. He wanted it. Hell, he needed it. And he needed Wolf. He needed the companionship and the feeling of being wanted that he offered. So, damn the job, damn a relationship, damn that empty room that threatened to be waiting for him.

“Yeah, very much.” God, he wished that hadn't had come out sounding desperate like it did. As he went to stand up, his keys fell from his pocket to the ground. A sterling silver key chain hung on the ring for just such occasions. Wolf reached down, picked them up, and handed them back to their owner. No screaming, no burns, no skin irritation. Just an extremely attractive, sophisticated man. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” he said, a genuine smile graced his lips. “I will get your drink.” He laid a few bills down on the table for the tab, then proceeded to motion for the door with a bow.” Shall we be on our way?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	3. Chapter 3

The parking lot was dark and mostly empty, with many darkened areas from which to launch an ambush. Though Sam had agreed to let himself relax a bit and enjoy the company of this man, did not mean that he was going to let his guard lax even the slightest. Lustful he may be, stupid he was not. He surveyed the area as he approached the Impala, plotting scenarios in his head. 

So overly engrossed in his stratagem, Sam was caught off guard when he reached for the chrome handle and found it wasn't there. His attention snapped right back and realized that Wolf had managed to reach the car first and opened his door for him. Sam, after wiping his surprised expression off his face, gave him an appreciative smile and sank into the awaiting driver's seat. The engine roared to life just in time for the passenger’s seat to become occupied by the guest of the evening.

Gravel turned to asphalt and Sam's mind turned back to the mysterious man sitting next to him. There had been lovers in the past but none seemed to have the draw, the allure of this man. Maybe it was the buzz of the alcohol in his veins or the chivalrous gestures or the stunning handsomeness of his vestige. Whatever the case, Sam was enraptured by him. He felt an ease that was difficult to come by in his life.

They pulled into the parking space that was in front of where Cas and Dean's room was and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. The drapes had been pulled to preserve their privacy but it wasn't difficult to see the light was on, illuminating the fabric from behind. They were most likely still awake. He doubted that he would need any of their help tonight, but the unspoken security was comforting.

The tumbler of the lock flipped, revealing the same lonely room he left. His duffel, with concealed pistol, sat propped up on the chair. It was easily within reach should he need it. A few steps to the bedside table and he switched on the lamp, casting shadows across the room. The distinct sound of the door latch seemed to echo off the walls and it made Sam's heart jump in his chest. The room suddenly felt smaller somehow. Perhaps it was the gnawing feeling that something wasn't right.

“Interesting,” Wolf's deep voice resounded, tilling his head in a manner somehow reminiscent of Cas. 

“Yeah, it's not fancy. But it was affordable,” Sam retorted. He turned back around and took off his jacket without looking at his guest.

“I was not referring to the room, Sam. I was referring to you.”

“What?”

“My beautiful creature, why must you do that to yourself? You second guess yourself, your decisions.” He took a step towards the rigid hunter. His inborn instincts were driving every muscle in his body to lock themselves in for a fight. “There is no reason to be nervous or scared of me.” He moved again, a a step closer like he was testing the water. His body language, relaxed and neutral, gave no indication that he was seeking out conflict. Yet his eyes, as Sam could see now, were practically glowing at how much desire and need lay just behind them. Sam felt as though they were putting him under that same spell that he couldn't escape.

“I happen to be empathic. I can feel all those emotions, Sam. The ones you show the world, the ones that lay just beneath the surface.' He rested his hand over top of Sam's heart, sending jolts akin to electricity racing through the hunter. “Even the ones you pray never escape into the light of the world.”

Sam's heart was pounding so hear it radiated into his ears. Furious in its confusion, it sought to make sense of the flurry of thoughts that swirled withing. Should he fight, push Wolf away and make him leave? Or could he let him in, take the comfort of intimacy that he was willing to give?

“You are on edge that I may be an enemy, a monster in the shadow, wanting nothing more then to harm you.” His other hand revealed itself curling around Sam's neck, cupping it tenderly. The warmth emanating from it seemed to dive right into his blood, swimming through it to every inch of him. His eyes closed, enveloping himself in the man. “But you are more afraid that you will be alone. That everyone you love will be taken from you and the job will be all that you are left with. And that you will die with no one to mourn you.” 

Wolf's fingers found themselves combing through the small hairs along Sam's neck. Sam relished the chills and sparks it sent dancing along his skin. His neck and hair had grown into erogenous zones and Wolf was using his skills to play him like a harp.

“I was like that once.” He stepped closer, chests touching. Sam looked wrecked, with flush cheeks and heaving chest, compared to the calm and quiet demeanor of Wolf. He took in the aroma Wolf was emitting. It was musky, drenched in a moist earth sensation and mixed with parts of ozone and something that Sam could only describe as incense. “Abandoned. Alone.” Each word was punctuated was a kiss along the base of his neck and continued up. San rolled his head back, exposing the long line of his neck to the torturous ministrations of his lover. “I was afraid of everyone. Even myself.”

Wolf's hands moved underneath the plaid over shirt and dropped it to the floor. Despite the layer loss, Sam felt like he was standing in a furnace. He could feel himself hardening, wanting nothing more than some kind of friction. In spite of that, he was most defiantly enjoying the foreplay. So much so, he didn't want it to end.

It was almost like there was an unspoken connection between the two. Wolf was on the emotional end, while Sam was on the physical. The hunter knew that whatever the connection, it was by no means love. Perhaps lust or desire, but not love. Sam didn't care, he only wanted it.

Wolf found the hem of the dark grey shirt his lover was wearing, pulled it up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. And, as his eyes fell upon the rippling physique, he could do nothing but stare. He traced over the lines and grooves created by the battle hardened muscle just under the skin. Following the line of his fingers, the muscle twitched and jumped at the sensation, seeking to capture it again. If it wasn't for the constriction of the denim, Sam would be at full salute.

“I know how you feel, my love.” That was when the Winchester's levee broke. He lunged forward to capture Wolf's lips with his own. Wolf's tongue swiped out against the crease of Sam's lips, almost asking permission to enter. When the hunter allowed it, he was caught off guard by the sudden forcefulness of the muscle as it entered. They tasted each other, messing and wanting, trying to ultimately win domination over the other. Teeth clash and hands wandering, but Wolf won control when Sam let a breathy moan escape his throat.

Their bodies intertwined each other, arms ran under clothing, fingers touching and mapping every inch of skin they could find. It was almost like the two bodies tried to become one. Sam's fingers wrapped around strands of Wolf's long black mane, digging into his scalp and pushing him closer, deeper.

Another moan escaped the Winchester as his lover's thigh began gently massaging his aching erection through his jeans. He strained for air, but the room felt confining and hot. He was ashamed at how much he ached for Wolf, needed him about as much as he needed to breath. He practically ripped Wolf's shirt from his body and immediately began attacking the revealed skin. He wanted to mark him up, cover every inch of him in bruises and bites and let everyone know who he had been with. He would bite, then sooth the mark over with his tongue. His neck led down to his chest. The muscle was strong and the hands on his head encouraged his actions.

The functional part of his brain, that wasn't drowned in lust, registered that Wolf was wearing a black corded pendant. It had two ravens on either side of a triskele with what looked like runic writing underneath it. He began to make his way down to where the pendant lay against his breast when he felt the sharp points of Wolf's nails dig into his scalp and pull him away. 

He kissed him again, this time more gentle and loving then the ravenous attack of earlier. His hands trailed along Sam's bare back down to the curve of his ass. With a sudden squeeze, Sam yelped. But Wolf simply gave him a predatory smile and pushed him down onto the mattress. 

He landed with a thud, bouncing slightly. Wolf wasted no time, pouncing on his lover in a flurry of nips and licks to Sam's neck. He buried his nose deeply along Sam's pulse point, scenting him. He moved down to his nipple, where he tugged and rolled the sensitive nub between his teeth. Sam whined, pushing Wolf's head deeper into its ministrations.

Sam was so greatly ingrained in this situation on his brain switched to pure instinct. He hoisted his legs up and around the Norse's waist, locking his ankles together. Without realizing it, he was offering himself up, like the sacrificial lamb. Wolf began thrusting his pelvis tantalizingly slow, teasing his captured offering. Mewls and whines escaped like prayers asking for more.

But, instead of getting what he wanted, Sam was left empty and wanting. His lover stood over him like a monolith. He just stood watching Sam, eyes almost memorizing the way he lay there. Softly he bent down and place a kiss right below his navel, while his hands took their time unbuttoning his jeans.  
As the garment was pulled from his body, Sam felt like he was being worshiped. Wolf's tongue covered the skin of his abdomen, tasting the sweat and the aroma of him. He swiped down around the edge of his underwear, purposely avoiding the one place Sam wanted that tongue to be.

The hunter propped himself up on his elbows to watch as his lover hooked his fingers into the band, pulling the clothing off and dropping it to the floor. He hissed when the air hit his cock, but was instantly soothed when he felt a hand wrap around its base. Wolf gave the throbbing member little kitten licks along the length. At the same time, his fingers massaged lower around his balls and perineum.

Sam loved watching his lovers go down on him. It was almost like a porn movie and having sex all rolled together. His eyes darted between the tongue swirling around the reddened head and the lust blown blue eyes staring right back at him. But when Wolf opened and enveloped almost the whole length of his cock, Sam's eyes closed and his head fell back. The heat and slick closure was heaven. He jerked up at the sensation, pushing it further down the opening throat. Wolf didn't seem to have a gag reflex but he wasn't exactly interested in having Sam's substantial cock lodged in his throat. His arm draped across his lover's hips helped to keep that from happening.

Sam's hands soon found their way back into those midnight black locks. He tried to thrust only to be pushed down again. Wolf's other hand pushed one of his knees further out so that he could have better access to his entrance. The limb was pliable under his action and stretched out wide. With better access, it now returned down to Sam's rim. He teasingly circled the puckered skin at the same time as his mouth worked the dripping cock.

“I.. I think there's some lube in the drawer,” Sam whined out, engrossed in the feeling. Wolf withdrew to retrieve the small bottle from the drawer of the nightstand. Before Sam could gather his wits about him, Wolf was back on him and it was like another hit of a drug. He pulled him down for a kiss. His attention diverted, Wolf popped the cap from the bottle and squeezed a liberal amount onto his hand.

Like a shot in the dark, Sam's back bowed off the bed at the wet and cold feeling pressed on his opening. With the slightest hesitation, a single digit slipped passed the tight ring of muscle. Dancing in a lust filled haze, Sam couldn't focus on which was better: the salty sweet taste of Wolf's mouth or the delightfully wonderful torture his finger was bringing him. He only knew that he wanted more. Which he got quickly when another finger joined the first and they crooked ever so slightly to swipe against prostate. He bucked wildly at the taunting gesture. He suck on Wolf's tongue, try to unconsciously relay his insistence for more.   
Quickening their pace, the North man began pumping harder and deeper. He scissored and pulled, stretching the muscles out. Sam couldn't help but fuck himself down onto the penetrating instruments. He wanted them deeper.

When a third was added, Sam cried out in pure ecstasy. The stretch was threatening to bring on his orgasm, but the burn was helping to keep it back. He was now leaking copious amounts of precum onto his stomach and the nearby bed. Wolf lowered down and began lapping up the pearly beads, smiling slightly at the taste.

“Please, I need...need.” Sam choked out, almost as though he was sobbing. A small part of himself felt ashamed to be so broken, to want it so bad it would drive him to beg. But he needed more.

“What my love? What do you need?” Wolf asked in a whisper, yet carrying a tone of dominance. 

“I need you. Please.” Sam looked down at him, pleading with his eyes. Wolf smiled like he had just won some kind of battle Sam was unaware of.

“Be good my pet. Up on your hands and knees for me.” Sam wildly nodded his head as he pulled himself together to do what was asked. He waited patiently, hearing the rustling of clothing behind him. He wished he was in a position to see the surely stunning form of his lover. When he felt the gentle touches of fingers running along his spine, he cooed and shivered in delight and anticipation. Wolf draped himself over Sam. “You are truly beautiful,” he whispered on the shell of his ear. Little kisses fell behind is as Sam could feel a hand massage his ass cheek. “More beautiful then anyone I have ever had.”

When he pulled away, Sam instantly missed the warmth on his back. But it was soon forgotten when Wolf pressed the head of his cock against his hole. He pressed forward ever so slightly when the hunter realized he'd made a huge mistake. This guy was enormous and he was nowhere as prepped as he needed to be to take him without any real pain. His body tightened up, as though to try to keep the intruder out. Wolf could feel this sudden tightening and stopped his movements to allow Sam time to adjust.

Inch by agonizing inch, and with a few soft words of encouragement and some well placed touches, the Norse man was buried to the hilt inside his lover. He stalled completely as Sam dealt with the immense feeling of being so full and stretched. It wasn't often he bottomed and it was even more uncommon for his lover to be bigger then him, but he would do this all over again if given the chance. 

The only problem he had was that the pain from entry had caused him to become flaccid. He silently cursed his body when he felt Wolf's hand enclose around his cock and began working it back up. His hips drove little circles around Sam's prostate and it wasn't long before the combination had him erect again.  
When the hisses turned to moans, Wolf withdrew his hand, returning it to his hip. A small kiss placed at the base of his neck was all the warning he got before Wolf pulled almost out and thrust straight back in. Sam howled in a mix of glorious pleasure and searing pain. But that didn't stop Wolf. He continued his relentless pace, filling the room with the sounds of flesh on flesh. His fingers held hard into the flushed skin of Sam's hips, deeply carving and drawing tiny drops of blood.

Sam knew he could end it at any time. The masochist in him just didn't want to. The pain drove the pleasure and the pleasure drove the pain. He closed his eyes, savoring the deliciousness of it. His moans echoed with flesh and he knew his brother could hear him. Good.  
His cock, left neglected, bounced up against his stomach with each thrust. It sought to remind its owner of his present. But it was in vain. The member just pushed more of the creamy precum obscenely onto the bed beneath him.

After a handful of minutes, an ache spread throughout Sam's arms and shoulders and threatened to overtake the pleasure of his lover. He hung his head but was quickly pulled back by a fist full of hair until he was damn near stretched in half. His mouth was overtaken and devoured with sloppy, demanding kisses. His moans were swallowed like sweet candy as the pace continued.

When Wolf finally released his, his head was pushed down into the mattress. Sweat stung his eyes and he could feel his own moist breath as he panted into his submission. Surrender was not normally his style and he would have fought against him. But he didn't. He laid there; hips bleeding, ass in the air, and panting like a dog in summer, while Wolf took every part of him. And god did he want it.

Without warning, Sam was suddenly being lifted off the bed. Wolf picked him up and laid him back against his chest on the bed. All without slipping free. He pulled Sam's knees up to his chest and tucked his arm around his waist. It took everything Sam had not to come apart when he felt that hand wrap around his cock. Despite the brutal pace with which Wolf was pounding into him, which caused him to almost bounce on his cock, the pace of his stroking was punishing slow.  
Being closer allowed Sam to engulf his senses in his lover, his smell, his warmth, his skin. But he didn't bank on the emotion he got. The understanding and the desire for companionship. The hand not on his cock puller Sam in closer and deepened the kiss. His rhythm stalled; his focus now devoured into his kiss.  
He whimpered when he felt Wolf begin thrusting again. His forehead rested against Sam's as they breathed each others air. Wolf was thrusting harder but with shortened length. Sam knew he was close, same as he. Except it was then that he began to feel a growing pressure. It was like there was a tugging on his rim, Wolf's cock enlarging even more. He tried to pull away from his lover. The logic center of his brain was pecking through and he wanted to know what was going on. When he struggled, Wolf sank his teeth deep into his shoulder. Not deep enough to break skin but it was definitely going to bruise for days or maybe even a week. A growl erupted deep in his chest, so authoritarian in nature, that the only thing Sam could do was instinctively submit to him.

“You can take it Sam,” he snarled. His voice was lower, primal and it commanded respect. He nuzzled underneath Sam's jaw, like he was scenting him. Sam didn't dare flinch. “I have only let one other have it.” His hand started jacking faster and Sam practically forgot his own name. A moan echoed in the air, resounding the need of the man releasing it. “But I know you,” his lips drug along the hunter's pulse point; “you're strong. You're beautiful. You're the warrior of legend.” He kissed him over and over again. “You'll enjoy it, Sam” Sam submitted his throat entirely to the devouring beast beneath him.” Take my knot, my pet.”

Wolf changed the angle of his hips and started assaulting the Winchester's prostate relentlessly. The knot drug against it and Sam lost the ability to talk. Faster and harder, Wolf pumped into him. Then the knot popped and a warmth flooded into him. The Norseman growled at the air and continued pumping through his orgasm. Those thrusts, coupled with a simple wrist flick, had Sam's own climax exploding from him. He felt it start in the cradle of his pelvis, traveling up his spine. Through his blood and colliding into his brain, causing his vision to whiten. His chest tightened and his breath fell short before collapsing limp into his lover's arms.

“I will protect you, my love. Never forget, I will die before I let him have you.” After that, Sam was gone into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was hanging low in the sky as it was just waking up for the day. The door creaked as it opened to reveal Dean stretching himself tall before the world. His mind briefly recalled the howling of the night before before he forced it out. Thinking about his brother fucking was not what he needed before he had even had his coffee. 

Cas was still passed out on the bed, laying on his stomach with the sheet spreed precariously over top of him. The deep fingernail marks shown red and angry across his skin. Dean couldn't help but be proud of himself when he thought back to how those got there. A pleased smile and he closed the door behind him.

“Sam, you up?” he asked, rapping on the door. Part of him wanted to storm in and surprise the hell out of him. Maybe make him as embarrassed as all the howling and moaning had him last night. Deciding he didn't really want to see his baby brother all sexed up, he waited for some kind of answer. “Sammy? Come on man, haul your ass out of bed. We got stuff to do. Dead bodies and all.”

He knocked again but only received silence in return. That instinctual part of him was scratching at the back of his mind, saying something was wrong. He pounded one more time. Perhaps Sam was just in the bathroom. Nothing. That's when the big brother instinct kicked in and he began trying to push the door in.   
Finally the lock gave, swinging the door against the wall. Dean stormed in and found it empty. The bed was in shambles but there was no sign of a struggle. He ripped open the duffel on the chair, finding Sam's still loaded Colt sitting on top.

The bathroom hung open with no sign of life. His phone and the keys to the Impala sat on the table near where he dropped his coat the night before. The floor was riddled with articles of clothing. And no sign of Sam. Dean's blood pressure sky rocketed and he bolted out of the room. The door to his own room flung open, scaring Castiel bad enough that he launched out of bed and fell to the floor. 

“Dean, what is wrong?” Cas asked, rubbing the now sore spot on his hip. Dean was digging through his bag, throwing clothes in Cas's direction. 

“Sam's gone.” He frantically ran around the room, loading weapons, gathering odds and ends, and running in and out the door. “Get dressed.”

“Where are you going to look?” Cas was pulling his pants on, dancing around. He barely had time to put his shoes on before Dean was dragging him out the door and into the car. He got in as the engine roared to life.

“From the Debbie does Dallas moaning we heard last night, its safe to say Sam got himself some tail. If we figure out the bar he went to, we can figure out who he brought back.”The Impala rolled out of the parking space.

Cas was surprised just how level headed Dean was being with Sam's disappearance. He was expecting squealing tires, waving guns, and a litany of curses exploding from him. Part of him wondered if this was Dean growing up that little bit and realizing that, though Sam still needed him, his brother was an adult and didn't need Dean to hold his hand anymore.

“Dean, we'll find him.” It was all Cas could think of, trying to be comforting. Dean didn't say anything in response, just turned the corner into traffic.

“Our usual MO is to go to the closest bar around,” Dean said flatly. “Ya know, in case we have to walk.” Or maybe run he thought. Despite his calm exterior, the hunter was raging inside. He hated his brother for getting himself kidnapped. He knew better; he should have covered his own ass. Stayed at the hotel and jerked off. He would have been safe there. But he also hated himself. Sammy is in trouble and he wasn't there to stop it. Damn it, Sammy should have been his top priority.

They stopped at a stop light near their motel. Dean was unconsciously chewing on his thumbnail when his eye caught the sign of a bar just down the road. Seeing that the exterior gave the impression of the usual bar pool hall they habitually frequented, Dean figured it was a good place to start.

He pulled around the block and parking in the back parking lot. At this time of day there was most likely a manager or at least one bartender who was counting the nights receipts. They weren't in their usual suits, but Dean planned on the FBI schtick working its ends. He popped the trunk and snatched their fake badges before closing it with a clunk. 

“Just let me do the talking, 'K Cas?” Dean asked, momentarily gauging his appearance. The new hunter was disheveled, with his unruly sex hair pointing in all directions and his clothes wrinkled. Dean tried to lay his hair down and straighten out his clothes before giving up and hoping these people were gullible.

“Dean, how an I going to learn how to interact with humans when you won't allow me to?”

“Other humans, Cas. It's other humans now. And besides that, the faster I get answers, the faster I find Sam. Just let me talk.” Cas pouted but agree. He understood how things worked between the brothers and knew just to stay out of the way until Sam was found. Dean nodded, handing him his badge, and swung open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	5. Chapter 5

A loud shout is what woke him. A man shouting indecipherable words. He shook the haze out of his head, rubbed his eyes. They stung and burned as though they had been just seen the sun from being inside all day. He blinked a handful of times and the world began to come to focus. It was more surprising then he guessed and more terrifying then he realized.

Sam was no longer in his hotel room. No, instead he was laying on a cold, cement floor of what looked like a warehouse. He looked around and found that he was inside a large cage. It was big enough for him to stand up in, though not entirely comfortable, and just wide enough for him to spread his arms out. Sam was reminded of a dog kennel, which it more then likely was. He tried to stand, only to immediately collapse due to his lack of balance and dead legs.

The shock of hitting the ground caused his body to awaken the dormant pain that rested within them. Most of the pain was caused from last night's activities. But the cold that bit his skin and the stiffness was from the ground. Sam absentmindedly rubbed the tender muscle where Wolf had locked his jaws in an attempt to alleviate some kind of pain.

His hunter's instincts were beginning to kick in. He needed to gather information to figure out how to get out of here and try to fight anything the tried to stop him. First thing was first, what did he have on him? The only article of clothing he had on was a single pair of pants. Checking the pockets turned up nothing, not even lint. Okay, maybe there was some piece of trash that he could use to pick the lock. Nope, nothing there either. He looked around to gauge his outside surroundings. Three of the sides of the cage were covered in what looked like burlap but the door was uncovered. He forced his body to allow him to stand by pulling himself up the bars. Making it to the door, he found he wasn't alone.

From what he could see, there was two lines of similar cages lined up. Probably twelve or fifteen in number. Most were empty, but a few held men with the same physicality he had. Younger, with a larger build and taller in stature. He couldn't see how many were in the cages that were next to him. This might explain the disappearances that were happening in town. 

The ones that he could see were in the same shape as him. There were bruises riddling their skins, a few had some cuts and scrapes, and one had a deep gash on his thigh with dried blood around it. Their body languages and expressions clearly showed their fear, defeat and subjugation. It really didn't surprise him any. This was a situation where a sane person would be scared.

The noises he heard only helped to add to that fear. There was something of a divide on the far side of the cage line that kept any of the men from seeing where those noises were coming from. The almost deafening din of screams, animalistic growls, the noises of rattling chains and the occasional whip crack sent chills along his spine. Men yelled, barked orders and commands at the screams and growls. Sam heard others casually conversing, only he couldn't understand what was said. They spoke in a language he'd never heard before and knew nothing of. 

Sam tried to call out to the man in a cage that was catty-corner to his, in an attempt to get his attention. He looked tired, scared and in pain. The hunter guessed that perhaps, from his appearance, that he had been in there for awhile and he could fill in some of the blanks. But when he called out to him and offer him assurance in his situation, the man merely scowled at him and turned away. That was when Sam got an eyeful of why the man was disregarding him. Stripping his back were the gouging cuts, bloodied and bruised, from multiple whip strikes. Whatever was happening involved mutilating torture and needed to be stopped.

Now that his legs were beginning to hold their own weight and it gave him a chance to examine what little information the cage could give him. He tried to push the walls, in an effort to see if they'd move. They didn't; the concrete it was anchored in made sure of that. The floor was sullied and dirty. A mixture of stagnant water, blood, mud, and what was most likely urine gave it a disgusting sheen. All of those combined, adding in the aroma of sweat, made it down right disgusting. Sam was suddenly thankful for his strong stomach. In spite of this, he decided to sit down. Without something to pick the lock or anyone to get information from, there was nothing to do but wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	6. Chapter 6

The door to the Impala flung open with such force Cas was sure it would come right off. They had been to three different bars around the motel and not one was any kind of help. The vein on the sides of Dean's neck appeared to be getting bigger each time they walked out of the bar door without answers.

“Dean, perhaps it's time that we change our plan,” Cas suggested. He hesitantly laid his hand on Dean's knee. Partly as a gesture of understanding but he also knew that he needed some kind of grounding. 

“Yeah and what exactly do you think we ought to do? Huh, feathers?” Dean snapped. Hurt by Dean's remark, Cas withdrew his hand and looked out the windshield. Dean could tell by his body language he'd messed up and stuck his foot in his mouth. He reached over and pulled the ex-angel in for a quick, heartfelt kiss. “Look, I'm sorry. I'm just, I'm sorry.”

“I understand Dean. Sam is missing and you're not getting any helpful information to find him.” Dean gave him a small grin. He was really thankful that he had someone that understood him. 

“Where would my gigantor of a brother go if not to a pool hall?” Dean asked rhetorically while tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Is there a bar around here that serves cognac? I have seen how he enjoys drinking it.”

“Yeah, Sam's always had a high taste when it came to alcohol. Probably ended up somewhere where there's those little soaps in the bathrooms.”

“Perhaps we should look there. Though, I am not sure what bathroom soaps have to do with Sam finding someone to have sex with.”

“I was saying that, you know what, never mind.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. Sometimes he forgot that his boyfriend was a millennial old being that had yet to grasp a joke. He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam sat there for what felt like hours. It was at least two; it was hard to gauge time in this place. The noises of whips and the screams of men were the only thing he had to pass the time. Chills chased his skin when he realized this was so reminiscent of the Cage. He immediately pushed those thoughts from his mind and tried to focus on the other noises he heard. 

There was moving water, probably the lake shore, and vehicles moving in and out. He could make out at least two dozen individual voices, all of which were clearly in control of whatever was happening. Sam wagered that this was possibly the base of operations for building an army. But who and why?   
The first, and most reasonable, person he thought was Randolf. He was the last person he was with and what's to say he didn't drug him somehow and drag him here? He did say he had business ties here. Couldn't those ties be kidnapping men and building an army?

Heavy footsteps brought the Winchester back to reality. He scrambled, as best he could, to his feet. He craned his neck in an attempt to see who was approaching. Luckily, the owner of the footsteps stopped right in front of his cage. Well, it damn sure wasn't Randolf.

This man looked older then him, by perhaps ten or twelve years. He had a large build and was dressed in jeans and a blood soaked t-shirt. His large, calloused hand held a ring of keys. Sam had a momentary thought of escape, thinking he could overpower the man and run; that was until he saw the two others behind the first.

“Well, good morning princess,” the man said in a deep and gruff voice as he began unlocking the cage. Sam began backing up, but there was nowhere for him to go.”We've come to take you to your spa treatment,” he said with a nefarious smile. Upon opening the cage, the man stepped back to allow his cohorts entry. Sam's whole body tensed, readying itself for a fight.

And, in spite of the confined space, fight it did. His fist struck the first of the two in the jaw with a right hook. The man recoiled a bit but came right back at him. The other man attempted to grab Sam's arm and forced him down. But he countered with a twist and another punch and landed the man on the ground. Seeing that Sam wasn't about to cooperate, the men almost telepathically decided to change their tactics. They charged at him together, pinning him into a corner. But the hunter wasn't about to give up. He hit, kicked and bit to try and keep them off of him. 

“So, I see this little filly needs some special treatment,” the older man standing outside the cage remarked. In the may lay of all the noise inside the cage, Sam caught the brief sounds of metal being tapped against metal. “Gordon, Mitch, move.” On command, the men let go of Sam, retreating to the exterior of the cage behind the man. Sam tried to compose himself before he caught where the metal on metal noise was coming from. The leader of this little assaulting group was holding a two foot long black metal pronged instrument and was hitting it against the edge of the cage. Sam knew exactly what it was; a cattle prod.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Sam yelled, in a vain attempt to keep him from using it. Now, Sam had been hit with a teaser before. Him and Dean both. John insisted on it for training. But he'd never felt the power of a cattle prod and he never really wanted to either. The man holding the prod just laughed and began to advance towards him. Sam could feel the cold metal of the bars biting into his back and he knew he wasn't going to get anywhere. He watched in torturing agony as the electrified prongs got closer and closer to his skin.

The contact sent wave after wave of seizing pain chasing through every cell of his body. His fists clamped around the bars of the cage as he fought to stay upright. His legs had lost a lot of their strength and were not holding weight again. But he wasn't going to give in. He'd keep on fighting as long as he could.

It felt like a thousand lifetimes before the prongs were pulled away, though it was only a few seconds. He sagged on the bars but didn't collapse. His lungs felt like they had collapsed and he couldn't breath. Teasers had nothing on the pain that a cattle prod could inflict.

“Well, this one's going to be fun,” the man laughed again. Sam could hear some whispers from the other two but couldn't make it out. His ears were still ringing. The prongs made contact again and Sam's muscles locked. He tried to think but nothing came except the massive pain and the smell of his own flesh burning.

The prongs finally moved, the pain finally stopped and all Sam could hope to do was lay there. His muscles had gave and his will was weakened and all he could do was gasp for air as the other men had collected and drug him out. His head hung, but he briefly caught a glimpse around the outside of the cage. He was right about the cages. There were, what looked liked, seven or eight other men in the others. They watched in a mix of sympathy, fear, and relief as he was drug passed. He couldn't blame them for their relief that they weren't the ones being drug away. Some part of him would too if the tables were turned.

The hunter dropped his head back down as he struggled for consciousness. His body was screaming for relief from the pain that still reeked havoc within him and his mind was weak and tired. He shut his eyes and heard 'why don't you let Garret try his hand at this one? I think he'd have a lot of fun' before he gave up and passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	8. Chapter 8

As Dean stepped inside The Lounge, the thought came to him about kicking his brother for wasting money at such an expensive place, especially since there was plenty of cheaper bars closer. But he knew his brother and, if he wanted to pretend that he had a normal life, then he'd come to a place like this. 

“I'm sorry sir, the bar is closed,” the bartender carrying a tray of glasses behind the bar said. “You'll have to come back tonight.”

“Actually, we won't,” Dean said, reaching for his badge. He gave Cas a 'get ours out' nod and presented it to the bartender. “See, we're FBI and we're looking for a man that might have been here last night.” He put his badge away. “Tall, longish brown hair, may have ordered a cognac.”

“FBI, huh? You guys having some sort of casual day, or something?” He motioned to their appearances, but didn't seem to look too far into it. “I wasn't here last night. But Mick was. I think he's still here.” The bartender poked his head inside the door. “Mick! Hey, you need to get out here,” he yelled before coming back around to them. A few seconds later, a thin, blond young man came out.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, we're looking for a man that may have been here last night. Tall, with long brown hair, younger in his thirties. Might have ordered a cognac.” Cas noticed, that despite all the outside calmness, Dean's voice chased with a touch of aggravation and annoyance. He wished he could help him. Just fly around the town and find Sam. But he couldn't and it was eating him up inside. He wanted Sam safe and he wanted Dean happy and he couldn't do either. 

“Oh, you mean the cutie that was in here,” Mick said with a chuckle. Dean couldn't help the gag feeling in the back of his throat at the thought of someone calling his brother cutie, hottie, or something cutesy like that. 

“Did he leave with anyone?”

“Yeah, he made off there one of our more delicious clientele Why?”

“He's missing,” Cas piped up.

“Do you know said client's name?” Dean asked. This was annoying, having to take this slow. Sam was who knows where, having god knows what done to him, and he was chit chatting away. But without any place to start, there was no other way to find him.

“Randolf, I think,” Mick said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You got a last name for this Randolf there skippy.” The irritation was clear in his voice and he honestly didn't care.

“Radulfr, I think,” Mick said, ignoring Dean's tone. “I really haven't gotten to talk to him. But he's in here constantly”

“Okay. Thank you gentlemen.” Dean quickly turned out the door to leave. He rushed out to the Impala with Cas in tow and got in.

“I was unaware that Sam enjoyed male companionship,” Cas remarked over the sound of Baby's roaring engine. 

“Sammy always was one to dip his wick in both waxes.” Dean backed up and pulled into the street. Cas's inability to understand exactly what Dean had said lead him to his signature head tilt. “Yes, Sam likes men too.” Dean couldn't but let out a sigh of relief that they were finally getting somewhere.

“Where are we going?” Cas asked.

“Now that we have a name, we're heading down to the police department to find out where this son of a bitch is. And hopefully Sam will be there too.” Dean's foot grew heavier and pushed the engine faster in an attempt to reach Sam quickly.`

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam wasn't out very long , maybe two or three minutes. But it was long enough that, in his unconscious state, he had been carried, dropped and shackled to the floor in a different part of the warehouse. As he drew in his arms to raise himself up, the chains rattled their existence. He blinked a few times to get his vision straight and was presented with the horrors of what he saw.

Scattered around him were fully transformed werewolves, about a dozen or so. Each were chained to the floor the same as he. The majority were docile and quiet, sitting as though awaiting command, while the rest were snarling and snapping and trying to pull free their chains. Sam had never seen this many wolves together ever.

“They really are good dogs once you get them trained,” a voice said behind him. He turned around to see a tall, olive skinned man standing there gazing at the wolves. He had his hands behind his back and an air of supremacy about him. “I'm good at my job.” Approaching, he ran his hand along the bare skin of Sam's back, who in turn tried to pull himself away. Garret then proceeded to grab a fist full of the hunter's hair and yanked him backwards sharply. “Rebellion, huh? Well, we'll just have to train that right out of you, won't we?”

He violently pushed his head forwards towards the floor, causing Sam to almost bend in half. And before he knew what was happening, a loud crack of a whip soared through the air and the searing pain of torn skin ripped through his body. He screamed pain through gritted teeth. But that only seemed to excite the torturer more. He struck again, harder and faster then the first. The sharp metal prongs on the end of the whip tore down deeply into Sam's back, stripping skin from muscle.

He could feel the blood flowing down his back as the whip landed a third time. He fought back the agonizing scream that threatened to rip from his throat and struggled to breath. He wasn't going to give in and give that bastard any satisfaction of knowing he broke his spirit; he was going to fight until the last breath in his body. He mustered his strength in his muscles and pulled against the chains. To no avail, the steel links simply clattered and bolstered a loud, metal racket, almost as though they were mocking their captive. 

“You think you can be a good dog and do what you're told? Garret asked, flicking the whip end deep into the bloodied and bruised flesh before him. Sam choked out broken grunts at his pain. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he believed this man was trying to tear his flesh from his bones. One more vicious strike landed across the back of his neck and Sam collapsed to the floor.

“See every little bitch can be trained in my care,” Garret said as he knelt over Sam's abused body. The fight pulsed through his aching body, stronger then the pain that threatened to overtake him. It pushed him to pull his weak arms underneath him and push himself up. He looked up to the man standing over him and spit at him in the most blatant act of rebellion he could bolster then. “Still got some fight in ya? I'm rightly surprised. You're a special case. I think Alrik himself should have the pleasure of breaking you.” He snapped his fingers and the excruciating feeling of having hands pushed over and under him, removing restraints and lifting him up. Garret got right in his face, showing his dominance over the hunter. He just smiled and said “He'll have quiet some fun with you.”

Then he was being drug away. Away from the werewolves chained to the floor, away from the chaos of other men walking to and fro while carrying out various tasks and back to his cage. With each step of the men carrying him, shock waves washed over him like an ocean of agony. His body was battered, bloodied and broken, but he couldn't tell to what end.

The men threw him into the cage and he heard the door lock behind him. He lay in the filth of the floor awhile because the cold soothed him. He could taste the blood from his split lip he caused when he fought back a scream and he knew it was a drop in the bucket compared to his back. He could feel the trails merely cascading down his skin and wondered if maybe, after all the he had been through in his life, if blood loss would finally be what did him in.

His breath finally leveled out and his thoughts came into focus. Different theories and ideas bombarded him, causing only chaos. But one thin thread remained continuous: how did he fit into all of this and what was the final end game?  
\---  
“What are you looking for Dean?” Cas asked as he pushed back the chair he was sitting on.

“Information,” Dean answered. “I can't find anything on this Randolf guy. No address, no police record, not even a work history. It's like this guy popped out of thin air.”

“Perhaps it's an alias.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not getting anywhere and Sammy's still missing,” Dean snapped. He was frustrated. He kept scrolling through the online paper. “Wait.” An article caught his eye. “Okay, says here that Randolph Randulfr owns an old warehouse out by the shore, along with a guy named Alrik Hemming. Hemming wants to use the warehouse to restart the fishing business that was in there before it was shut down.” Dean grabbed his jacket and slung it around his shoulders. “Let's go pay these two a visit, shall we?”

He marched out, thanking the clerk behind the desk. Cas followed in tow. As they got back to the Impala, all Dean could think about was Sam had better be having a sleep over or Randolf was going to learn the definition of agony.


	10. Chapter 10

By the time anyone came back, Sam had drug himself up to sitting in the back of the cage. His back felt like it had been licked by the flames of Hell. Despite his pain though, he felt like the deep gashed had begun to clot. That was a bit a good news. But that was all the good news he was going to get. Especially since those two thugs showed up. He defiantly stayed sitting when Gordon and Mitch came to call on him again.

They knew it might be a fight so they came prepared and each held the same type of cattle prod that Sam was introduced to before. Along with that one of them held a broad collar and set of manacles. He allowed them to place the manacles around his hands, but jerked away at the collar. One hit of the prod had him changing his mind.  
After he recovered, he felt the men maneuver him around to fit the collar on him. The sound of the metal ends snapping closed behind him drove straight through his soul. It was the sound of surrender and subjugation, of torment and servitude. It tore him apart that they had gotten him to this point. But, the glimmer of escape and defiance still burned.  
They lead him out of the cage and down the alleyway of cages. There were fewer cages filled now, maybe only five or six. Sam shuttered to think what happened to the rest. The thought quickly vanished when one man shoved on his back, right on the whipping lacerations. The hunter clinched his teeth and barely held back the scream that fought to escape him. He could feel the blood beginning to flow again. 

The group made their way into an open area. There were multiple men standing in a circle around a central figure. Despite coming closer, Sam couldn't make out who this figure was. Perhaps it was this Alrik who was supposed to break him. They got closer to the group, the figures parted and allowed them entrance. That was when Sam got his first look at this man. He stood shorter then him by maybe three or four inches, with mouse gray hair and a light-medium skin tone. He guessed Alrik was only a handful of years older himself.  
While his captors attached his manacles and collar to the floor, which forced him to kneel, he watched as Alrik conversed with the crowd. The language was strange, it was the same language the men that walked the building was speaking. He tried to listen well enough to try and make out a few words, in the hope that he could figure out what was happening. The pain and stiffness of his body, however, was making it difficult to focus, much less think logically. But when Alrik turned his attention to Sam, he couldn't help but wonder if today was the day that he'd finally keep that appointment with death.

“My men have found that you are a truly special case, “Alrik said, with a hint of curiosity in his voice. He walked closer to the kneeling Winchester. The look in his eyes told Sam that this man was a killer and felt no pity or empathy towards his victims. “They say that you won't break, despite out more persuasive techniques. You're very strong willed.” He huffed mockingly with a smirk on his lips. Taking hold of the chain that held Sam's collar to the floor, he jerked it abruptly upwards and forced the hunter's attention to him. “That can only mean that you are one of two people. You could be a soldier, though I doubt that since you aren't wearing any insignia. So that means that you could only be a hunter.” Sam caught the deep throated growl that escaped Alrik as he said the word hunter.

Surprisingly, he let go of the chain and stood back up, turning towards the crowd. A split second later, he whipped around and brought a rather fast and very angry fist colliding with the side of Sam's head. Disoriented and caught off guard, Sam fell to the floor. He recovered in time to brace his fall with his hands. He looked up and saw Alrik walking around the crowd with his arms raised to celebratory applause and hoots from that crowd.

“My brothers, my pack. Today is a fine day. Today is the day that we bring a hunter to his knees.” He turned to Sam and analyzed him coldly. “And turn him into the monster that he's hunted.” There was a mix of anticipation and pure revolting disgust from the crowd at his words. From the subtle mix of hisses and grumbles, it was clear all were not as excited as their leader.

“Why does this piece of shit get to be one of us?” a voice asked from the back.

“Because,” Alrik answered; “all hunters will be like us. Every single wretched human will either choose to join us or they will choose their own deaths.” He began walking closer to the outspoken man. The others respectively cleared a path to the outspoken man. “Why to you question me decisions? Why to you doubt me?” He circled the individual, striking an image of a predator circling its prey to attack and devour it. “Have I not opened my home and let you in? Have I not proven god's very existence?”

“Yes, yes my brother you have,” the man answered meekly.

“Then why do you question me?” Alrik now stood directly in front of this man.

“I...” But before he could answer, Alrik snatched a fist full of the man's hair. Violently pulling it backwards, he rushed forward and sank his teeth into the exposed flesh. The man screamed and tried to fight him off but it was too late. The pack leader released him and he fell to the floor, grasping and clawing at his bleeding throat. Alrik had torn the man's throat clean out. The life flowed out of him, accompanied with gurgles and choking sounds, as he slumped to the floor. He collapsed and died in an enlarging pool of his own blood.

Alrik turned to show his blood stained fangs. Fresh blood dripped from his chin. In the many years of Sam's life and all of the experience of hunting, he had never seen an attack such as this. It was violent, rage filled emotion. But it was a very calculated and clear message. No one was to question Alrik's authority. The consequence was death.

“Anyone else have an issue that they care to address?” The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. “My children what I do, I do for the good of the pack. A doubter is like a cancer. It eats through the group, until we're snapping and tearing at each others throats like rabid dogs. It's not good for ourselves or our pack. And Fenris certainly wouldn't want us disgracing him in such a manner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hejda is Swedish for stop or halt. If you are Swedish or speak the language and that isn't right, please let me know. I got this off of Google, so if it's not right, it's kinda not my fault.

Fenris. That name rung a colossal brass bell in Sam's skull. He tried to push through all of the pain and focus his thoughts. The radiating pain in his cheek and the heat of burnt flesh from the prod fought with his logical mind and forced him into an almost trance state to get past them. Then it came to him, like a bright light through the darkness.

“The Maw of Fenris.” It just fell right out of his mouth before he realized he had even said it. The whole of the crowd turned to look upon him.

“What did you say, little hunter?” Alrik asked stepping towards him.

“That's right, isn't it? You're part of the Maw.” Sam shifted his weight so he could look the pack master in the eye.

“What do you know of the Maw?” He practically growled in Sam's face.

“I know you're all that's let of them.” Alrik's expression changes ever so slightly that if you weren't looking directly at him, you'd miss it. “Another hunter and I wiped out the few remaining members that were in Grantsburg. The Maw is dead. This group is all that's left.” Something about that sentence set of various growls throughout the crowd. Alrik was now right on top of him. He crouched down to look Sam directly in the eyes.

“Good,” he said in a tone that forced the tiniest of shivers riddling up the Winchester's spine. “Worthless pack of mongrels, the lot of them.” He flashed his blood stained fangs at him in a smile that was gruesome and monstrous. “One less thing for me to take care of.” A look of confusion crept onto Sam's face. “You really think I would be part of that pack of traitors and murders. No, I wanted them dead for a long time. You just saved me the trouble.”

Alrik looked up and behind Sam as he stood up. Before he knew it, a sudden crack of a whip brought another bite in the wounded skin of his back. He seized up once again, but he couldn't hold back the slight scream that came from him. The fresh blood seeped from the new wound as he fought to control himself.

“That was for speaking out. Obedient dogs don't speak unless spoken to. Correct?” he asked the pack.

“Yes pack leader,” they replied in unison. This brought a smile to Alrik's face.

“See little hunter. A pack is only strong when it is obedient. And, of course, when it had a great leader.” The arrogance dripped from his mouth as he turned to face his prize. Without regard to Sam's comfort, he plunged his clawed finger deep into the raw and angry lines streaking his bruised skin. Sam screamed through gritted teeth as the claw fished thickly through the muscle. The digit finally left the wound and found its way into the already blood thirsty mouth of his tormenter. A wet pop came as he pulled it back out, tasting all of Sam's essence.

“My father knew that. He started this pack. He wanted the ultimate leader. A god. But not just any god, but THE god.”

“Fenris,” Sam interrupted, panting through the pain still pulsing along his back. Alrik smiled and it actually startled the Winchester, though he wouldn't ever admit it.

“Yeah. Fenris. My father wanted Fenris to lead us, even believed he could find him in flesh and bone. But the Maw didn't approve. Called my father a traitor and sentenced him to ripped apart by his own kind for treason. All while my mother and I were forced to watch. But he was right. Fenris, the great god himself, does reside in flesh and bone. And I found him.  
Sam could hear some movement behind him. Somewhere in the back of his barely coherent mind, he believed one of two things might be going on. Either Fenris was real and, in that case, there's a big ass wolf coming to tear him apart. Or, the more likely this was just a mad man's bullshit scam. In which case, he had better come up with some kind of plan for escape when everything heads south.

“Turn around hunter and see the face of a true god,” Alrik said as he motioned behind him. The pain riddling his bones resurrected itself once more as Sam turned in the aforementioned direction. Not really sure what to expect, he damn sure wasn't ready for what he got. His eyes met once more with those piercing blue orbs that had drawn him in before and he felt his heart drop to the floor.

“Wolf?” he asked tentatively. Despite the weird sort of relief to finally see someone he knew and might help, the total and utter sense of betrayal sent a red hot rage coursing through his veins. If he wasn't chained to the floor, he would have torn that bastard's heart out.

“Sam?” Wolf, or really Fenris, seemed equally as confused as Sam. But, at a hat drop, his disposition changed. “You lying ass! You told me he was safe and wasn't going to be harmed!” A deep chested growl tore from his chest as his shoulders squared and his claws got longer.

“Hejda!” Alrik yelled. Immediately, Fenris' claws withdrew and he fell silent. This baffled Sam. “I didn't ask for your input on the subject! You follow my orders.” He stepped around Sam to stand directly in front of the god. In spite of the five inch difference in height between the two, Alrik demanded authority of him. “Don't forget that. I have the restraint spell. You listen to me. Just like you listened to Odin.”

“Alrik,” Fenris said, in a not so submissive way. “I ask why you need this one. You have plenty. Leave this one with me and you can have the rest.” The tone seemed to change in his voice into almost one of begging. For some reason, his request was something comical to the pack leader and sent him into a fit of laughter.

“You don't decide who I, oh wait.” He paused as he looked over the changed in Fenris' face. “You have a soft spot for him, don't you? That's why you want him.” A smile crossed his face as he stepped backwards and sank down towards Sam. “Are you doggie's little bitch, hunter?” he asked mockingly. “Have a thing for wolf cock?”

“Alrik, stop,” Fenris said, punctuated by a short but strong growl. This brought those same blood stained fangs out, aimed only at intimidation towards Fenris.

“You have no power here, Wolf!” Alrik yelled. His rage was evident but was driven home by the heavy handed fist brought down on the side of Sam's head. “I make the rules!” Another hit. “I hold your bond!” Another hit. “And I will say what will happen to your runt of a bitch!”

When the top of Alrik's foot collided with Sam's solar plexus, he was already on the ground. The kick forced out any remaining air he had left in his lungs. Bloodied, bruises, and clinging to whatever air he had left; he looked up at what he wished would be his savior. But instead he was stone still. Only the ghost of a single tear falling from his eye showed that there was any kind of sympathy towards his supposed beloved. Part of Sam wished that Alrik would just finish him off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	12. Chapter 12

The Impala crawled to a stop along a gravel stone road. They could see the old warehouse out on the waterfront. Dean gave Cas a few pointers on staking out the perimeter. They noticed that, though there were a number of different vehicles, there wasn't a soul to be seen. Clearly this wasn't just one or two people here and it may be a trap.

He parked off the side of the road where the car couldn't be seen. Propping the trunk open with the usual shotgun, the hunter decided they needed some protection. Cas had been on the range for a few weeks and, though he wasn't the greatest shot, Dean knew he'd be reliable. A few handguns, a shotgun, and some silver bullets, in case this was a werewolf den, and they proceeded towards the warehouse.

The field between them and the building was empty and surrounded by a small patch of trees. Going through the field was the best option, as it allowed an open visual for preparedness. But the hunter in Dean was still suspicious, especially of that small wooded area. And he was right to be. Because not long after they began on their trek towards the warehouse, that Dean began hearing the rustling of branches. He quickly turned, pushing Cas behind him, to see two enormous weres running towards them. Claws out, teeth bared; they were intent on bloodshed.

“Sentinels!” Dean yelled as he raised his handgun. “Aim for their hearts!” He began firing as the targets got closer. Cas cocked the shotgun and fired. They weres ran in zags, darting the projectiles. One hit a were in the shoulder, but he seemed unfazed by it and kept running.  
Soon, they were right on top of them. Dean managed to get a fluke shot and hit one directly in the heart. It fell to the ground in a dust cloud. Cas grew tired of not hitting anything, so he threw the weapon to the ground and drew his angel blade.

“Cas, no!” Dean yelled as the ex angel charged the other beast. A cursory strike landed directly across the were's chest. Another landed on his ribs. He fought, clawing at any part of Cas he could reach. 

Despite not having his wings, the ex angel could still move at a faster speed then most and easily dodged the were's attacks.  
Dean frantically tried to reload. He didn't have another blade and the only other thing he knew could stop the creature were his silver bullets. But before he could get finished, Cas had plunged his blade directly into the were's beating heart. Abruptly the creature's actions stopped, he collapsed to the ground and Castiel walked away with only a dirtied shirt and a few disheveled hairs out of place.

“Come on. With a were attack like that, there's something juicy in there. And I'll bet anything it's Sam.” Dean pushed the last round into his gun and took off towards the building. Cas trailed behind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piece for translation: Flytta bort från tiken means Move away from the bitch. I would love to thank those that have commented for their support. I really do appreciate it. Thank you soo much.

Fenris looked down at his lover chained and beaten. His blood pumped hell's fire through his veins. He wanted nothing more then to kill all of these vile mutations, tear Alrik limb from limb, and disappear with Sam.

But he couldn't . The burn on his wrist from the gray ribbon reminded him of that. That ribbon, the bane of his existence, the thorn in his proverbial paw; was the representation of the spell he was cursed with so long ago, Just because of Odin's ego, just because he was unique but was seen as a freak. Everyone always saw him as a freak.

But not Sam. Sam didn't see him as a freak. Sam saw him as a soul in a world of injustice. A soul trying to make it in this existence. Sam was different, he was better. He doesn't want to control or force. He only wants and gives love and acceptance. Even though he knew nothing about him or his true identity.

“My pack,” Alrik yelled again, almost snapping Fenris back from his thoughts. “This world is filled with such closed minded persons, such violence and evil. This is why I have gathered you all. I've given you a purpose, brought peace to your life. And those that denied the gift and allowed doubt and mistrust to enter into your peace, I cast them out and showed them your power.

“I am your leader. I am your pack master, With the power of Fenris, our god, you shall go out and bring peace to all those that wish to ignore us or chain like dogs or kill us! I will lead you into a world where you will be safe, where your family will be safe because we are all the same.”

The crowd up-roared, cheering and clapping. It was clear that whatever psychosis Alrik was brainwashing these men with, hard enough that they were willing to torture and kill, was through. Sam couldn't help but be reminded of a multitude of Nazi and communist rallies over the course of history. This ideal was dangerous and it always ended in blood shed and death.

“Now, we shall start our new world with a being who takes joy in destroying us. Let's turn him into the thing that he hunts so passionately.”

“No!” Fenris strained and fought trying to escape the bonds of the spell while the rest of the group continued to cheer.

“Oh yes Fenris,” Alrik responded as he turned to looked at him. “You may be a god but I'm the one in control.” His voice was so low that only he could hear him. His eyes glowed an otherworldly yellow as he positioned himself over Sam. Bending down, Alrik grasped Sam around his throat and easily hoisted him up to eye level. The hunter was already struggling for air and could feel his consciousness slipping from him. “Don't worry hunter. Three generations of purebloods run through my veins. Your transformation won't be a painful as I'd like it to be.”

A venomous smile crossed his lips as he pushed Sam's head over, extending his shoulder out. Before the hunter had a chance to react, Alrik sank his fangs deep into the tendon on display in front of him. Sam closed his eyes, thinking himself anywhere but here, and choked out a broken scream.

“Sam!” Fenris yelled. His long black claws dug into the palms of his hands and broke the skin as he watched the way that Sam squirmed and screamed. Every atom in his being was vibrating with his hatred and anger. He couldn't move and it tore straight to his soul. His lover was being attacked and turned against his will. And all he could do was stand there and watch it happen. He was as much to blame as Alrik. And it was all because of that accursed spell.

Alrik pulled away. Fresh blood dripped down and Sam fell to the floor like a ragdoll. The smug look of satisfaction on his face was like a kick in the teeth to the god. Alrik turned and walked away into the crowd. It was like he had just used Sam like a two bit whore and threw him away just as easy. He neither worried nor cared if Sam would make it through the transformation. He'd be able to spin it if he didn't. Either way he got what he wanted. A hunter paid for his mother's death.

“Fenris.” Sam's voice was weak, barely there. The god couldn't hear him. He couldn't see. He couldn't do anything but fill his mind with images of destroying Sam's tormenter. The one that held his bond. The one that claimed to be only wanting peace and promised freedom if only Fenris did as he was asked. He had done everything that Alrik had ever asked him, going to extremes that he never once dreamed he could ever bring himself to. Yet, this is how he is repaid and rewarded for that service. 

“Wolf.” That voice crept through the fog of his hatred. Fenris turned his attention down to his injured lover.

“Sam, I am sorry. I am so so sorry. I never wanted any of this to transpire. I am bound.” His voice once strong and full of life and energy, not was broken and sorrowful.

“Wolf, you are stronger then this.” Sam began to cough, pain attacking his body once more. The bite on his neck now burned intensely and his veins coursed with magma. With each move he made, he felt the venom, or whatever it was, move further through him and change whatever it touched. “This bond isn't unbreakable. You can fight it. You can overcome it. You said we are alike, that you know what it's like to live in fear. You still do, you never let yourself be freed of that fear. And that's what's giving that spell its power. That's why it's so strong. You have to fight it. You have to let go of that fear and that hatred that you have. It's consuming you and you have to let it go. Fight it and be free. If not for me, then for yourself.”

Like a shot in the heart, everything made sense. Sam was right. He was scared when he was young, when Odin came and took him. He was scared when his siblings suddenly vanished. He was scared when Odin asked to see him and left him chained alone. He had been in fear his whole life. That's how Odin knew to control him.  
The last person he loved abandoned him and left him to this master's terrible punishment. But none of that mattered . But not anymore. He couldn't be afraid. He had Sam there that needed him and he cared about him. He wasn't sure if it was love or even if it could ever be love. What mattered was that Sam was innocent and that he was the only person there that had the power to help him and to put an end to all of this evil. But he did care deeply and he couldn't abide by letting Sam go.

So he did the only thing he could do. He stopped. He thought about Odin and how frail and useless he was and the power that he no longer held, not just over him but over the humans he used to command. He thought about all the places in the world he could go and all the things that he could do. He thought about all the freedom he could have. An he thought about if he and Sam could have a life, that is if Sam wanted it as well. A smile came to his face from that. Just the thought of not being alone, not being afraid.  
He looked down at that bit of silken ribbon around his wrist. It appeared older, like it had aged. It began to unravel and chip. The spell holding it together was weakening and Fenris felt it down to his core. Nothing had ever felt so good in his whole existence. He grasped the ribbon and tore it from its longtime home, throwing it like trash to the floor. Now freed, his thoughts immediately turned to helping Sam.

“I am forever saddened he had done this. I broke my word, forgive me.” He placed a gentle kiss on the Winchester's forehead. Alrik had come back from his conversing with the crowd and saw this gesture of affection.”

“Ah, giving your bitch one last goodbye,” he taunted. He snorted at the gesture derisively. It actually stirred up some well buried feelings in him of good times past, which he rapidly sought to repress once again. He didn't need compassion. He didn't need affection. He needed ruthlessness and single minded determination. Anything else was a cancer that ate away at his, and his packs, strength. “Move away.”

“No,” Fenris replied.

“What?”

“I said no, you simpering little worm.” A deep and dangerous growl pulled from him and several of the surrounding men began to move away. But Alrik stayed put.

“Flytta bort från tiken,” Alrik yelled, and Fenris stood. “That's what I thought. You can snap all you want, but one way or another, you will follow and obey.”

“Not anymore.” Fenris turned and looked at his abuser. His eyes were alight with the most preternatural blue flashes. His fangs and his claws were out. His body language gave the clear message of attack. Alrik glanced at his wrist, only to find it bare. A chill ran up his spine.

“That's impossible! The spell is permanent. There's no way in Hell you could have broken it.” Unconsciously, the leader began to step backwards.

“That spell was based solely on my fear. And now that I am no longer afraid, the spell is useless.” The stature of his body took on an increasing size. He grew at least two to three feet in a matter of minutes. The men that were surrounding had begun to flee.

“That's impossible! The spell has you bound! You can't do this!” Fear dripped from Alrik's vice and his dominant behavior had turned quickly subservient.

“Were you not listening? I am free and I am putting an end to your hate.” No sooner had the words left his mouth then Fenris reclaimed his true from. A massive black coated wolf, with monstrous jaws and gnashing claws. His blue eyes were the only thing that stayed reminiscent of the man. Sam was both fearful and stunned at the image of this creature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	14. Chapter 14

Outside the warehouse, Dean and Cas made it to the door nearest to them. Dean tried to open it, but a lock hindered his way. Before either could do anything about it, the sounds of men screaming and the thuds of cement came echoing from inside. Not wasting any time, Dean drew his pistol and shot at the lock. On the fourth shot the lock gave and fell to the ground, but the door stayed shut.

“Sammy!” Dean shouted, resorting to simply bashing his body into the entrance. The door held well and it took a handful of hits before they were able to get inside. Meanwhile, the screams continued. 

“I'm coming Sam.” Dean ran in, the door bouncing off of him as he passed. Cas, blade in hand, ran after him. The immediate surroundings were boxes and barrels. They zigzaged around, following the voices, until they finally got to the vast opening. They stopped dead in their tracks. Nothing prepared them for the image before them.

The once grey concrete was now stained red by the free flow of blood from the bodies strewn around the whole area. Some were in the process of dying, due to either blood loss or shock from horrendous gashes along their bodies; while others were already dead from having been torn apart.

The culprit of the heinousness was standing somewhat off center of the area. Never in his whole existence had Dean ever seen anything like that great black creature. After momentarily being caught off guard, he gathered his wits and began firing on the wolf. With all the bloodshed, this was obviously a monster in need of ganking.

“Dean, stop!” Sam yelled. He summoned all of his remaining strength to peer through the fog of the transformation. He knew the only one that would be firing would be his brother and he didn't want him to harm Fenris. The great wolf wasn't the monster they sought to extinguish. He wasn't a monster at all. He was a victim, same as Sam, and he didn't deserved to die for that.  
“Sam!” Dean and Cas ran to help the fallen hunter through all the carnage. 

“You're a beast. Just a big, stupid fucking animal!” Alrik cursed at his captor. Fenris had him caught underneath his overbearing paw and was slowly pushing the life from him. “Your whore of a mother was right to let Odin lock you up and throw away the key. An animal like you just needs to die!” That struck a sharp cord of anger in the great wolf. With a monstrous growl, he snapped his gaping jaws around the were's head and rendered it clean from it's shoulders. The body flopped momentarily as Fenris threw the severed head across the rood. It bounced with a sickening thud and rolled next to one of previous conspirators.

Fenris slowly shrunk down into his human form. His long black fur reverted into his long, now tangled, black locks. His fangs and his claws receded within. Human gradually overcame animal. This seemingly miraculous transformation caught both Dean and Cas off guard and forced them to stop abruptly in their tracks. His nudity just added to their discomfort.  
But Fenris didn't seem to care about it. His single minded goal was to get to Sam. He ran through the blood and various body parts to kneel down before his lover. Dean felt a surge of adrenaline as he saw this nude shape-shifting monster running towards his injured brother and bolted forward to stop him.

“Sam, I am here.” He softly brushed a sweat drenched piece of Sam's long hair from his face. A sudden loud click and the press of cold metal against the back of his head didn't seem to change anything in his concern for Sam.

“Dean, if you pull that trigger, I will never forgive you.” His voice was shaky and damaged, lasted with all the pain coursing through his body. He was tired and felt like his body was at odds with itself and he was losing. He thought that maybe it was rejecting whatever was transforming him. His head ached and swam. His body throbbing and burned like the sun. “Put the gun down. He is not the enemy.”

“Dean, I am the only one that can save Sam. However, if you feel the need to kill me; then, please, allow that hammer to fall.” Fenris was as calm as he could be at that moment. Though the sorrow in his words in that last sentence made Sam angry that Fenris could feel that way.

“Dean, put the gun down. Please.” The elder Winchester knew that tone. He'd heard it before. His little brother had made a connection with someone. It didn't matter that Sam had a terrible tack record with significant others dying, nor did it matter that he may have had a subconscious taste for supernatural creatures. It mattered that sometimes those connections were deadly, though once or twice it was lifesaving. Dean totally drawn on which one that could be.

“Trust him Dean,” Cas said, displacing the feeling of mistrust and defense, if only slightly. He pulled the gun away from Fenris' head, yet kept it primed and at the ready. He may listen to Cas and give this whatever he was some slack, but he wasn't about to let his guard down. Not wasting any time, Fenris grabbed Sam as gracefully as possible and placed his head in his lap.

“Sam, I can save you. I can stop this process. But it must be your choice and you need to be aware that there will be consequences. And you and I will have to deal with them. You must tell me, do you want this?”

“I don't want to be this. As far as consequences, I've probably dealt with worse in my life. Do whatever you need.” A fever had broken out and a chill passed over him. His whole body began to tremble, giving Fenris his cue. He pulled Sam in closer to him, so they were back to chest. Fenris could feel each time a wave of fever hit the injured hunter.

“Calm yourself. Your brother and I will be here to watch over and protect you,” he whispered. In a moment's notice, his lips were drawn back into a snarl of his wolven teeth and were sank deep into Sam's shoulder, covering the bite of injection from Alrik.

The gritted teeth scream from his brother caused a knee jerk reaction from Dean, lifting his gun and preparing to fire in Sam's protection. However, before the hammer could fall and destroy the one and only chance at redemption, Cas stepped in and moved Dean's arm away.

“Sam is alright, Dean. I know that you feel like Sam is in danger, but you must let this play out. I assure you that he is in no danger. Please Dean.” Cas wasn't just trying to talk Dean down. He knew what was happening between the wolf and hunter and once it was started it couldn't be stopped. And if Fenris was to die, then there was a good possibility that Sam would die too. But Dean didn't know or see that; he only say this monster attacking his brother. And it was his job to protect him. Cas stepped in between the barrel of Dean's gun and the couple. Something about that broke through Dean's haze of mission and told him that he needed to listen to his mate and let this happen. So, he holstered his pistol and waited.

As the great wolf's jaws were locked firmly, an all over shiver rocketed through Sam's racked body. The bit of logic he had left was worried, but the rest of him was at total ease. He couldn't remember a time when he actually felt this way and he wasn't going to question it. He simply inhaled deeply, soaking in the aroma and the warmth of the man above him and let his body and mind fall into a much needed rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are like candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	15. Chapter 15

Sam woke with a start, sitting up in bed. It took a moment for his senses to catch up. When they did, he realized he was laying in his bed in the same crappy hotel room he had rented what seemed like ages ago. The air was slightly chilling his mostly exposed body and a hint a musk and vanilla hung and sweetened it.

He flung the sheets off himself and began to examine his skin. He needed to know how bad he was. But there was nothing to examine. No blood, no bruises, not even a band aid.   
For a brief moment, the thought that the last day or so was nothing but a bad dream perplexing him. That line of thought was brought to a sudden halt as his fingertips brushed along his shoulder and the raised scars that decorated it. A bite mark, deep and everlasting bite. None of that was a dream. 

He was startled by a noise coming from his supposedly empty bathroom. His instincts, combined with the last thirty six hours, had him grabbing for the gun hidden under his pillow. Finger poised on the trigger, he climbed out of bed. Inching his way towards the bathroom, he caught an unsurprised Fenris as he exited.

“Where's Dean?” Sam demanded. The gun was aimed directly at Fenris' head, yet you never would have known by his reaction. He merely rested his hand on the barrel and pushed it to the floor.

“You know that weapon will have no effect on me, Sam. Here you are still partially dehydrated from what happened.” He handed him the standard Styrofoam motel cup full of water. Sam hesitated to take it. “Your brother and his mate are in the next room over. I explained to him what happened.” He walked to the bed, again paying the hunter's weapon no never-mind. “Sam, I understand that you may have questions about what has happened. Please come and rest. I will answer any inquiry that you may have with total honesty.”

“I may have questions? Where do I even start?” He slammed his gun down on the nearby table, before turning around to Fenris.”I don't even know who you are or what you are. Are you a god, a monster, or some other kind of jacked up mess my life seems happy to throw at me? I really don't know or think that I trust you.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck, I don't even know what to call you.”

Pacing seemed to accompany the pain and anger in his voice. His whole body felt aggravated and uneasy. Fenris sat quietly, watching his pacing. He understood why he felt the way he did and he wouldn't be surprised if Sam were to pick up that gun again and shoot him for simple spite. 

“I understand that you are hurt. Please come and sit with me. Allow me to explain.” Fenris motioned to the spot next to him on the bed. Sam, still being suspicious of him, stayed where he was. “Please.” He held out the cup Sam had yet to take again, as a gesture of peace. Curiosity finally overpowered anger and he sat down, snatching the glass and downing its contents.

Fenris sat there quietly. What he needed to tell Sam brought back painful memories and open wounds. They were ghosts that had followed him most of his life. But Sam needed to hear, to understand why what happened to him happened. And Fenris needed to say it to be able to let go of all of the fear and hate that he had held. He sighed, trying to balance out his emotions before starting.

“The mythology that humans have collected involving myself is only partially true. I am indeed the son of Loki and Angrboda and, while my true and original form is that of the great wolf you saw at the warehouse, I am somewhat partial to my human form. The spell that Odin bound me with, and later Alrik, forced me to reside within my humanity for eternity. Odin once remarked that he found me more controllable that way.

“As an infant, the great Allfather took myself, my younger brother the monstrous serpent Jormungandr and my baby sister Hel away from our mother. He told her that our breeding was unmanageable, given our father's reputation, and he and the other Æsir needed to keep us under constant supervision.” Silence permeated the air. Fenris' once focused eyes were now slightly reddened and distant. “Sam, I have not seen my family in over a millenia. Part of me wonders if they are even alive.” The anger in Sam's belly subsided a bit. Losing family was not a new feeling to him and the not knowing if one's family is even alive is much worse then merely losing them. Everyday not knowing left a void of pain and anger. He could never imagine having that feeling for over a millenia.

“I'm sorry. I do know how you feel,” Sam said. Fenris accepted his empathy with a smile before continuing. 

“Odin allowed me to live with him and his wife Frigga. I was a mere pup and spent much of my life running and playing with Balder and few of Frigga's other children. One day while playing, I overheard the Allfather mention that he wanted to train and use me as a hunter and a killer. A weapon against his enemies. That should have told me that the niceties I was being shown was a simple charade.

“As I grew, I heard whispers around me, rumors. Talks about dwarfs and magic. I began to see people move away from me and even shun me entirely. The same people who were once kind to me, now turned hard and uncaring. I could not understand why. That was until Odin asked me to participate in a game he had, a sort of test. What I later found out, he sought to ensnare. It was my size, my stature, that frightened him. The fact that I had grown as large as I am, Odin and Frigga believed that I was uncontrollable, though they told the other Æsir there was a prophecy that I was to devour the old man and destroy the world.

“They tricked me. Chained me up. Bound me in human form. For eternity. They called me a monster, a dimwitted beast whose only purpose was destruction and chaos. Then they abandoned me to my eternal fate.”

The air about the room changed. The sorrow that once seemed to thread through it was now replaced with a saturation of rage, soaked in hatred and fear. The tension threatened to explode at any minute, yet it stayed quiet, manifesting itself in the single tear escaping from the corner of Fenris' eye. It traced the lines of skin before finally falling onto the discarded bed sheet.

“I spent an eternity there, Sam. As the world around me changed and forgot me, I remained chained and hated. Eventually my waiting and hoping turned to sorrow and hatred. The Æsir, humanity, my parents. The world was nothing outside of my hatred. Inevitably, that hate turned inwardly. I began to create that evil monster they labeled me as. I did want to destroy and create chaos. But at the heart of everything, I simply wanted to destroy myself. End all the pain and loneliness and fear. However, time continued on and I sat waiting for my death.

“The day Alrik found me, I knew I was surely insane, a delusion created in my heartbroken mind. He revered me as a god, prostrated himself before me and praised. Not one part of me believed the words he spoke. Kindness and praise, I learned, only lead to deceit and lies. Yet he told me he had spent several years seeking me out and I had a job to do. He even promised me my freedom, my only desire. He said the only thing he wanted in return was for me to come with him back to his pack to prove to the doubters of my existence.

“I wanted my freedom and I has come to realize through the centuries that no one was coming for me, so I accepted his terms. Little did I know at the time, the spell he used to break my bonds simply changed the ownership from Odin's control to his. I was a slave once again.

“On our way to his pack, this Maw, we talked about his childhood and why he sought me out. He told me about his father and how the Maw murdered him in cold blood because of his beliefs regarding my existence and the possibility of enlisting me to help further their agenda. He and his mother were apparently met with their exile.”

“Yeah, when he was kicking my ass, he said something about all of it being about his mom,” Sam interjected. In the course of listening to Fenris talk he had become calmer. That part of him that told him that Fenris was as much of a victim in this as he was, now told him it was right. Although there was something that laced through Fenris' voice that helped to calm the hunter.

“Alrik only spoke once about his mother during our time. She died at the hands of one of your fellow hunters who happened to pick up her tail. The immense rage he spoke with in regards to her killer culminated in his talks of wanting to extinguish them all. I warned him that if he continued to hate the way he did, it would eventually consume him whole. He laughed and told me not to be so sappy.

“That should have been an indication of the cold hearted vindictiveness that this man had. Yet I remained somehow oblivious to it, at least until he had kidnapped the first of too many men. He was innocent and the sound of his begging will haunt me forever. Alrik forced me to watch as he beat the man repeatedly. He cried out for the sake of his family but that only seemed to encourage Alrik's viciousness. When he grew tired of him, he tore the man's heart from his chest and devoured it.

“I was sickened and demanded Alrik honor his word as I did mine. This seemed to infuriate him further and he proceeded to attack me. The binding spell did not allow me defend myself and I was forced to simply wait until he had finished. The whole time I thought how I wished to tear him limb from limb. When he was done, he stood over me and toted his superiority. He was not going to hold to his word. The spell was too important and gave him too much power. I plead with him, but to no avail. He said when the world was finally at peace, with him in charge of course, he would decide if my freedom was worthy of my service.”

“And those men, me, where did we fit in your plan? Did you sleep with all of them, so Alrik could kidnap them?” The sound of hurt riddled his voice.

“No. You were the only one that I laid with. You are special. The others I was forced to overcome and bring back to Alrik for this plan. But you, you are so much more then all of them. You see yourself much in the same way that I do and have. I felt myself being drawn to that deep seated fear of ostracization you have and the need for a more intimate bond beyond the flesh. I wanted to show you that you that you are not a freak and that you can be loved for who you are, not in spite of it. My only want was to keep you safe and protected.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Hope you enjoyed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yah!!! Fun smutty stuff!!!

“Safe and protected? You call being beating, dehydrated, tortured, and finally forced into turning into a monster safe?” Sam yelled as he pushed himself back away from Fenris. The anger was justified and Fenris knew it, yet this was not what he wanted. “You know what? I'm not some damsel in distress that constantly needs to be saved. I can take care of myself. I don't need some sort of guilt trip. I don't need a nanny. So, I've heard your story and you can see I'm fine, so you can leave now!” Sam stood up, walking to the end of the bed and motioned to the door.

“No, Sam, you are right. You do not need a nanny. But you do need a mate,” Fenris said, looking directly into Sam's eyes. He stood up and walked towards the stand still man. “You cannot tell me that you do not want what your brother has.” He reached up and caressed Sam's check. A heat suddenly raced through the hunter's body. An itching prickled his skin and his heart raced. He couldn't help pressing further into the hold and closing his eyes. “You cannot deny that there is something within you that wants a true connection with someone, not lies and deception”

He stepped closer to the Winchester, flush against his body. Sam shivered as the heat pushed through his body, radiating out from his groin. He couldn't understand how he went from being as upset as he was to now aching for Fenris' touch. The wolf pushed his nose into his unmarked collar bone and scented him deeply. His arousal was intoxicating, making his head spin.

“I will not lie to you Sam,” he said as he laid a series of tiny kisses and nips along his throat. Sam keened into the affection, submitting his throat all to willingly. “I need you to understand something before we continue. Sam, are you listening?” The haze of the heat was heavy and the Winchester was having a hard time focusing on anything beyond the feel of Fenris on his neck and the blood rushing in his ears. “Sam, answer me?”

For some reason, the tone of the wolf's voice caused a shiver to run up his spine. It forced that ghost of submission he had always had to soak back into him again. And normally when someone tried to force or wanted him submissive he fought it, but not now. Now, it was the only thing ever wanted to be.

“Yes, I'm listening,” he responded, while unconsciously grinding himself against his lover.

“Do you feel the heat the pulses through you veins at my touch?” Sam nodded furiously to the question and was rewarded with a tongue following up the pulse point of his throat. He couldn't help the moan that escaped. Another wave of heat radiated through his body and his cock began to leak onto the white fabric of his underwear, creating a wet spot. “That wave of heat you feel is only the beginning. My bite causes changes to an ordinary human at the biological level. Since I am the only one of my species, I have to make a mate.” He thrust hard against Sam and the room echoed with the sounds of their pleasure.

“I am an alpha and always will be.” He placed a line of kisses down the hunter's chest before he reached the vibrant pink of his nipple. “The lover and mate I choose must be an omega and submissive to me.” He pointed his sentence with a rather sharp bite around his nipple. Sam yipped, more in surprise then pain. He wouldn't push Fenris away even if he could. “My bite causes your body to recognize me as your alpha and you will submit.”

Fenris instantaneously pushed Sam against the wall and held him there was a bruising kiss. His tongue darted across the line of Sam's lips, tasting the bit of salty sweat that rolled there. Obediently, the hunter opened to his alpha, massaging the skillful muscle with his own.

While they searched each others mouths, Sam fisted his hands into the black mane of his lover, He loved being so ravaged, so meek to his lover. Fenris thrust again hard and Sam felt his whole body flair with heat and scream for him. Sam climbed his way up the great wolf, offering his hole freely.

“My mate, my lover, my beautiful bitch.” Fenris reached under and carried Sam over to the bed. He whimpered when he was left alone, spread out before his mate. “Shh, my lovely. I will take care of you.”

Fenris hooked his fingers into the band of the Winchester's underwear and pulled them off his legs. His cock bounced up against his well toned stomach, glistening with precome and beckoning for attention. But it received none. Instead, Fenris grabbed held of his ankles and flipped him onto his stomach. Instinctively, Sam pulled up his knees and proudly presented to his alpha.

“You are wonderful, my beloved. Truly submissive, a natural omega.” Fenris smiled, pleased with his choice in mate. He gently rubbed the bare mounds of Sam's ass as he climbed on the bed. A whine made its way to his ears and he knew what Sam needed, but he needed some prep first..

A yip from Sam answered the first swipe of Fenris' tongue along his hole. The sensation wasn't new, he had been rimmed before. But this was exponentially greater. Another wave of heat hit and had Sam pushing backwards onto his lover's tongue for more.

“More, hmm,” Sam bit his lip; “more.” Fenris thrust his tongue inside and past the tight ring of muscle, having Sam moaning like a porn star. He tried to bring some relief to his aching cock, only to have his lover sink his teeth into the flesh of his ass. Sam whimpered and quickly removed his hand. Swipe after swipe turned Sam into a writhing mess. His skin flushed and trembled, his mouth wide and gasping, his cock red and dripping; Fenris couldn't have asked for a better omega.

“You are perfect Sam. It is like you were made only for me.” The proud alpha drove two fingers straight into his opening omega, who cried out in pleasure. Pumping the digits in and out, he swirled his tongue around the opening. He knew Sam had to be thoroughly prepped or he would hurt him.

“Please, please, I need more.” No one would have guessed by Sam's pleading that he had four whole fingers pumping in and out of his ass. He was completely debased and veiled in submission; he could care less what he sounded like. He was all too comfortable this way. In fact, it came wholly natural. He was a cockslut and proud of it.

“Yes, my lovely. Your alpha will help you,” Fenris purred. He pulled off his mate to be met with a whine. He felt empty and shaky. He could hear the rustling of fabric behind him before he felt a slight dip in the mattress. A hand pushed on his hip and he obediently rolled onto his back. They finally got the first look at each other since Fenris laid him down.  
Fenris was in complete alpha mode. His nostrils were flaring at the various smells emanating from his lover, boosting his dominance. His body was unconsciously flexing, as if he was strutting. He fought to keep the animal that clawed to get out within his restraint. Sam needed to adjust to his role before he would be free to act his true way. 

Meanwhile, Sam was utterly flush from head to toe. His pupils had enveloped the wonderful hazel of his eyes. His lips were red and swollen from gasping for air and biting them. He was the ideal of image of what every omega should look like for their alpha.

The hunter reached out towards Fenris whining his displeasure at his absence. Fenris gladly complied with his wishes and draped himself over his mate. The preternatural heat that radiated from him seemed to light the Winchester on fire. Every nerve in his body exploded like a sky full of fireworks. It was overwhelming but he craved it. He felt like it was the only thing that would give him clarity through the fog of his heat.

Sam clawed angry red marks into Fenris' back, emphasized his need, as they ravaged each others mouth again. Deep, meaningful and passionate kisses inner mingled with fast, selfish ones. When one would inhale, the other would exhale. Pulling away, Fenris took his omega's legs and propped them over his shoulders. Sweetly, he licked around the rosy colored tender nub of Sam's nipple before taking it into his mouth. 

“You would be resplendent with a pup or two hanging from your wonderful tits. Would you like that? To nurse our children?” Sam panted and nodded wildly. He wanted so badly to please his alpha. Anything he would ask, Sam would do. Fenris teasingly rubbed the head of his cock against the omega's quivering hole and was rewarded with a litany of pleases and whines. San tried desperately to thrust downward onto it; however, the awkward angle didn't allow it.

“I wish you could see how perfect you are like this. The ideal omega,” Fenris whispered; “mine.”

“Yours alpha. Only yours.”

With a deep growl of conquest, the alpha took his omega. One push had him sheathed deep inside his lover. Sam's whole body shivered with heat. But it was better, like it was being somehow sedated by the act. Sam felt more full then he had ever and it was perfect, like this is what he was missing. He groaned and clawed at Fenris' back to get him to move.

The great wolf set a brutal pace, drawing almost out before slamming back in again. The bed moved with each thrust and the room was saturated by the sounds of skin on skin swirling within breathy moans and whines, creating a symphony of love making. Sam's long legs intertwined together behind Fenris' head, pushing him in deeper. He captured his lips in a long and wanton kiss. The energy swirled between them and made a world un and to themselves.

The Winchester's stretched throat out. He had been broken entirely. The rest of his life he would be the alpha, the big man, and always in control. But he would forever submit wholly to Fenris, without a second thought. That fact pushed Sam higher, flooding him with a new sense of joy he'd never had before. Again, the wolf took advantage and sucked claiming marks all along the skin. He buried his nose deeply and inhaled Sam's scent. He believed could get drunk on his smell alone.

The pace increased, harder and more pressing. Fenris adjusted his angle a bit and begun unabashedly ramming directly into Sam's prostate, who suddenly let out a strangled scream. A litany of pleases and Fenris and whines begged and pushed Fenris higher. Sam needed some kind of direct contact to his aching and neglected cock. But, when he reached to grasp it, a deep chested and dominant growl emerged from his alpha.

“No, lovely omega. You will come from my knot alone.” Sam tried to whine by that was swiftly stopped when his lover stole his lips. Tongues over teeth, the kiss was enrapturing. So much so, they were forced to break for air. “I want to breed you Sam. I want to watch as your belly swells heavy with our pups. Your breast swollen and leaking. And as I push into you, I would caress your belly, knowing it was I that bred you up and those are my pups. Then when you welped, I would breed you full again. How wonderful you would be. Would you like that?”

The small fragment of Sam's coherent mind was seriously questioning what Fenris was even talking about. However, that part was greatly marginalized as the rest of his lust soaked being was frantically trying to please, nodding and begging for it.

“Yes, nuh, yes alpha. Want it, want it so bad. Please breed me.”

Fenris' knot grew quickly, signaling the rapid approach of their peaks. Both ran faster and faster. Fenris snapped his hips harder and deeper each time, while Sam bucked down as far as he could. His muscles began to contract and his heat surged to new extremes. He wasn't going to last much longer.

“Come for me, my obedient omega,” Fenris whispered in his love's ear. The pressure of the growing knot on his prostate mixed with alpha streaming through his words had Sam drowning in the ecstasy of his climax. His body shook and vibrated with pulses as he screamed his release to the resounding sky.

Sam's walls clinched tight and milked the knot to popping. He suddenly felt himself become full and soaked as Fenris howled loudly. The wolf attempted a handful of thrusts, trying to bury himself as deep as possible within the hunter. Sam came a second time, despite being limp, from the rutting on his prostate. He could feel the heat that pushed so violently under his skin vanish and be replaced by bliss. His whole body sang in it revelry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)


	17. Chapter 17

Against his will, Sam's exhaustion overtook him and he quietly closed his eyes as he watched Fenris above him. He unknowingly slipped into unconsciousness. What seemed like hours passed as he lay there, though it was only a handful of minutes, before he awoke to those same piercing blue eyes watching over him.

“Did I, nmm.” He was cut short when a wave of pleasure washed over him like a wave on the beach. He was trying to shift into a different position but was stopped by the tugging on his rim, rubbing oh-so deliciously on his oversensitive prostate. When his brain came back into focus, he looked down in between them to figure out what was happening.

“It is alright Sam. My knot will deflate here shortly.” Fenris lovingly nuzzled under Sam's chin, drinking in the smell of his sated omega. He brushed a leaf of hair out of his lover's face, admiring the glow emanating from him. But he could tell the confusion and touch of fear that lay just underneath the surface. “Sam, talk to me.”

“What the hell?” Fenris looked at him in a way that reminded him of Cas. “Are you knocking me up?”

“No, I am not impregnating you. Sam, your body is different now. You will occur an estrus type of cycle. As my omega, you will experience high peaks of sexual need. Your libido will be exponentially higher, causing you to experience your heat and a need to participate in sex with a partner. Outside of those handful of day, you will feel no different.”

“So, once again I'm a freak.” The thought rolled around in his head. Everyday of his life has been one endless stream of a fucked up mess. From demon blood, to Lucifer, to the trials; nothing was ever just normal. But hey, why should it start now? But this wasn't a monster to be ganked or some strength of will he needed. This was soo much worse. Now he was not only almost forcibly tied to this man for the rest of his life, but he was this guy's breeding bitch. Literally.

“Sam,” Fenris growled, like it came up from the base of his spine. It was authoritarian and it shot through Sam like a rocket, forcing him to lower his eyes and whimper in submission. The impulse was reflexive and came perfectly natural to him. His alpha ordered and he complied. “I never wanted to make you feel as though you were something wicked, something damned. You are far from any of that. Every living soul makes mistakes. We take the wrong path. But that does not mean that those choices are who were are. They can be fixed. They can be changed.” He paused only long enough to tilt Sam's chin up so he was back swimming in those hazel eyes. “I realize that when you said yes to me, you were not in a condition to think clearly, let alone pick another option. However, you did say yes and I did what was necessary. That cannot be changed and I am sorry if you feel as though you are somehow at my beck and call. But you are not. You will never be my slave. You can take any other lover, if you choose. And it is your choice. It will always be your choice.”

He pulled the fretting Winchester to him. He scented him lightly before placing an adoring kiss to his chapped lips. Sam couldn't help but lean into it. He couldn't help the need to hold him. He couldn't help the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he might break if he ever stopped kissing him. When the kiss did end, he also couldn't help the longing to have it back.

“What was all that pup talk?” Sam asked.

“You are my mate Sam. As an alpha, I cannot welp. But my omega can. You can.” A look that was somewhere between terror and self loathing crossed Sam's face. “You needn’t worry, my love. You cannot welp now. The bite I inflicted on you merely causes your heats, as well as training your body to recognize me as your alpha. When and if the time should come that you choose that you want a pup, I can take the steps needed for that. Again, it is your chance. And it you never choose, I will not be hurt or angry. I only want you to be happy.”

Sam sat quietly. He looked over every line and feature of this man, his mate. He wondered why his life was the way it was . Any normal person would run far and fast at this idea. They would say no and beat and scream until they were free of this idea. But not a Winchester, the most fucked up family in existence. This man he had never met before three days ago, who was just supposed to be stress release, was now talking about a family. It was crazy, insane in face of it.

Never the less, some glimmer in the back of the hunter's head still thought about it. It thought about all the things and people his life had taken away from him. It jumped at the thought of not coming back to and empty hotel or bunker room and cold beds, about not feeling guilty about his envy of his brother because he had someone too.

Which, inevitably, led him down at the train of thought regarding Dean. How would he react? Would there be tension and stress? Dean had always been so overprotective of him, something to an infuriating point. And granted, he'd made some questionable choices in his partners in the past, but that didn't necessarily mean that Fenris deserved to fall in that category. Besides, he was a grown man and he could decide who he wanted to be with, whether Dean approved of it or not.

So that was it. Sam reasoned that it was probably one of the most most messed up things anyone had ever done. More messed up then fucking a demon, more then starting the Apocalypse. Though that didn't stop that small voice in his heart, the one that he should gag and throw in a pit for eternity, was still telling him that he wanted him. And the bad part was, it was gradually winning. This could be possible.

“Where do we go from here?” The hunter paused, holding his breath. The answer really meant whether that voice would ultimately dominate the vest of his logical mind. When Fenris' gaze lowered from his, Sam's heart lowered as well.

“The truth is that it is your decision. I know what it is you and your brother do and I respect that. I also know what family means to you both and I would never dream about injecting myself between you. So it is that emotion that has made me think about my own family. It has been too long since I have seen them and, not that accursed spell is broken and I am free, I find myself with a need to find them. I ache to know what has become of them.” He cupped Sam's face and stroked his thumb along his cheek. “As my mate, I would ask you to come with me, though I fear the answer will be no. So I will not ask. However,” he paused. Untangling himself from the hunter, he pulled the corded necklace from around his neck and handed it to Sam. “I would like you to keep this.”

“Fenris, I don't think-”

“No,” he cut him off, shaking his head; “I want you to have it. It is a gift. I have placed an enchantment on it that will allow me to feel your emotions, no matter the distance. If you should need me, all you need do is want my presence. I will always come with you call. Always.” Bringing Sam closer, he sought to convey the emotions he held for his omega in a kiss. It was long and generous, soft and thoughtful. “Just give me a bit of time to get to you.”

Sam smirked at the joke, but he wasn't in a laughing mood. He looked over the small pendant in his hand. He loved it, yet it angered him as the same time. While he understood the mixed emotions of missing family and the overwhelming desire to find them, none of this seemed fair. For Fenris to do this, to fundamentally change him, and then just leave; that was the epitome of cosmic douchiness. It hurt and he resisted the urge just to reach across the bed and sock him right there and then.

“Will you still be here when when I wake up?” Sam asked, as calmly as he could,

“Would you like me to be?” The returning question slammed into the Winchester harder then it should. He couldn't answer and it tore him to his core. He absentmindedly chewed his lip while the war raged inside of him. “Sam?”

“No.” It fell from his lips and the whole of time stopped. “It's going to be better if you weren't, I need time to process this. And I know Dean will flip if I suddenly vanish. I need to tell him what's going on and I think that would be better done if you weren't here.”

The room was so quiet and so tense you could have cut the tension with the needle you just dropped. The only sound was their combined breathing. Fenris quietly took Sam's hand, brought it to his lips and kiss it lovingly.

“Alright, I cannot say that I am happy. But if that is what you wish then that is what you shall have. I shall be gone when you awake. But remember, when you wish for me to be here, you need only ask.” His voice was faltering and it was clear that, despite his monotone speech, he was saddened and forcing his emotions away. “Sleep now. I will watch over you until my knot disperses. Then I will leave you to your rest.” He kissed him sweetly then laid Sam's head on his shoulder.

The hunter's body thrummed as he lay there scenting his alpha, to be scented back. He listened to the strong heartbeat within and an overwhelming sense of guilt captured him. He had hurt him by telling him to leave early, but he needed his logical brain back and he couldn't do it with Fenris around. So he lay there, being lulled to sleep by the rhythm of he heart and the warmth of his body, and praying to himself that come tomorrow he could figure this all out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are candy.


	18. Chapter 18

The nose knows. The delicious aromatic smell of rich coffee wafted around his nose, waking Sam from his sleep. He stretched his long body out to awaken his muscles and found the bed empty beside him. He sat up on his elbows and scanned the room. He was alone but he found a cup of coffee on the stand beside him. Throwing the ghost of a sheet off his legs, he assets that he was cleaned and dressed before he woke. He grabbed for the coffee and was surprised by a note underneath. He knew who it was from and debated whether he should read it. Eventually curiosity won out and he flipped open the letter. It read:

Samuel, I have done what you asked and left you in peace. I am sorry to be leaving you feeling the way that you do. It was never my intention. None of what has happened was ever my intention. But in some part of my heart I am glad that it did because it has allowed me to bond with you. You taught me there was more than just fear in and life and that made all the difference. Despite the short time of our meeting, I have grown quiet fond of you, even to the point of a budding love. And I pray that, in time, you will allow me into your life again. Until that day, you shall be in my thoughts daily and in my heart always.  
Until that day, always your servant,  
Fenris.

Sam let the words he just read sink into him. They hurt and they made his mind race. Had he done the right thing? Had he chosen the path that was going to lead him to a normal life? Or had he just let possibly the best thing that had happened to him since Jess walk out the door?

He stood up, letting the letter fall to the floor, and began pacing the floor. God, he wished Bobby was still alive, he'd tell him what to do. Call him an idjit maybe, but help him anyways. But no, instead he only had that damned empty room. His emotions surged with foot step. Anger, loneliness, sadness, self loathing; each slammed his heart to the point of pain. He wanted to yell and scream. He wanted to drink and fight. But above all, he just wanted to sit down and cry. But Winchesters don't do that. Winchesters push it all down, hide it, until it comes out in sass, alcoholism, and violence.

Which is exactly what happened. The anger turned to violence and exploded out of him, sending the coffee he'd forgotten he was holding careening with the floor and his fist into the wall. It left a hole in the cheap wall paper and plaster as he let out an agonizing maddened growl. He pulled his fist back, realizing the wall had split the skin of his knuckle. He proceeded to cradle it while he padded to the bathroom to clean it. Over the flow of running water, Sam heard his door slam open and foot steps come stomping in. 

“Sammy!” Dean's voice resounded off the walls. Clutching his hand in a now stained motel towel, Sam left the bathroom to meet the barrel of his brother's gun. He dropped the gun down and grimaced at his brother's lack of clothing. “Man, put some pants on or something. What the hell happened?” he remarked upon seeing Sam's injured hand. “Did that son of bitch do this?”

“No.” Bitchface accompanied the gesture to the hole in the wall. He padded back to the bed, squishing through the coffee puddle that the now soaking into the carpet. He flopped down onto the mattress, pinched the bridge of his nose and wished his brother would take the hint and leave.

“Well, listen, Cas and I got Baby all loaded up. We're ready to head back to the Bunker. So, put some clothes on and we'll grab a bite on our way out..” He turned heel and made his way out when Sam stopped him.

“Dean,” the hunter tuned back; “why didn't you shoot him when we were in the warehouse?”

“Cause you and Cas asked me not to.” Dean shrugged like it wasn't an issue. But it was to Sam.

“Dean, I've asked you to do a lot of things in out lives, Cas too, and all of a sudden you start listening. I'm not buying it.”

“Fine.” Dean sighed, clearly irritated with his brother's persistence. “You wanna get all 7th Heaven, I didn't gank him there and then because, well a lot of things. But mainly I know that you're jealous of me and Cas, of our relationship or whatever the hell it is. And I know that you had some kind of weird connection with him. You deserve happiness, man. We both do. And if some twenty foot tall wolf man does it for you, then so be it.” Sam was actually kind of surprised at his brother's maturity. Dean was always the first to put an end to his relationships and it was a refreshing chance of pace for him to actually support one.

“So, you're really okay with all of this?” Dean shifted. It was clear he was nervous.

“I don't know Sammy. You don't have a great track record and I don't want you to get hurt again. I mean, we should have a policy about dating or sleeping with monsters.” The atmosphere suddenly shifted at the word monster. Sam wasn't exactly sure why he felt offended by his brother's labeling but he damn sure didn't like it. “But Fenris, god or whatever he is, well he seems to actually give a damn about you and he doesn't seem to want to use you.” He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “Man, I don't know if I'll ever really trust him, but I can at least let him date my baby brother.”

“Wow Dean, I'm glad to hear you say that. And I'm kinda surprised that you're being so mature.”

“I'm hurt,” Dean fanned insult. “Come on, get your crap together. I'm hungry. Gotta get me some pie.” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Huh,” Sam chuckled, with his half smile; “okay.” He stood up to gather his things when a glint of metal caught his eye. It was the pendant, laying on the table beside the bed. Sam picked it up with trembling hands. The pendant felt uncommonly warm against his palm. It almost begged to be worn. Slipping it over his head, Sam felt the warmth spread throughout his skin with vibrations of love and guardianship. 

“Cool necklace, dude. It that from him?”

“Yeah.” The younger Winchester let the emotion raise in him. Something that he attributed to missing him pushed him to rethink whether he could actually be falling in love with him. He shook his head and pulled his duffel open to find his clothes. Dean smiled to himself. Long road ahead he thought.

“Last one to the Impala has to buy breakfast,” he said, opening the door and heading out.

“Jerk,” Sam yelled out, practically ripping his pant up his legs to get them on.

“Bitch!” came his brother's voice from outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it. Did you hate it? Love it? Want me to stop writing? Tell me in a comment. Otherwise, hope you enjoyed it and have fun reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are candy. Thank you.


End file.
